#it's not like my relationship with my outside-of-sys brother | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

poledancingdinos · 3 months

Text

Hostile Territory - Chapter 20

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Leah Coleman)

Word count: 2.5K

Warnings: none for this chapter

Catch up: Series Masterlist

Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @persephonepraxidikechthonios @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @summersong69 @identity2212 @liecastillo @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper @happydistraction @hannah9921 @valacircareads @toooldforobsessions @kingliam2019

Masterlist

Day 203

After arguing a little, Ash let Leah pay the normal hourly rate for his work and gave her a final hug before seeing her off.

“So,” Sy began as they stood outside the shop, “where to now?”

That was a good question. Leah had been stunned to see Sy—thrilled—but stunned. All she knew was that she wanted to keep him close but she also couldn’t miss her appointment with Ash. After that, well, she’d been too focused on not messing up Ash’s lines to think about what they would do next.

“I’m going to guess you’re starving since all you’ve eaten since you showed up on my doorstep was a couple of strawberries so… Dinner?”

Dinner was the obvious answer considering it was almost six o’clock but what kind? Did she take him home and make him wait while she found something to cook? Did they go out? If so, where? Was this a dinner and a movie type of thing or a drinks at the bar type of thing?

“I am starvin’. Why don’t you tell me where I can get your favorite takeout and I’ll meet you back at your place?”

Leah released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. That sounded perfect. She didn’t know why Sy made her so nervous. She’d never been one to turn into a blubbering mess in front of a guy but damn did she feel like a kid going up to her first crush on the school playground. Maybe it was because, for the first time, she really wanted a relationship to work out.

“There’s a little place on 2nd Street. Every time the guys talked about what they wanted to eat when they got home, I thought about their bacon cheeseburgers.”

Sy’s desirous groan confirmed that he was fully onboard with that idea. Leah laughed, holding out her hand.

“Give me your phone and I’ll pull up the address for you.”

Sy did as requested, holding on a second longer than necessary as their fingers brushed together.

“Why don’t ya put your number in there while you’re at it. I figure that’s something a good boyfriend should have.”

Leah pursed her lips as she bit the inside of her cheek. “Is that what you are to me now?”

“Give me the next two weeks then you can decide for yourself.”

Why was this man so damn smooth? And how was he still single? The women in Georgia must have been blind. Or maybe Sy just wasn’t around enough to really get to know anyone.

“If you get me that bacon cheeseburger then you might just be able to do it.” Leah finished up with Sy’s phone handing it back to him. “I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”

After seeing Sy off, Leah rushed home, making a mental list of everything she needed to clean before Sy came back. She started with the living room which had the empty snack wrappers from the previous late night with her brother. She then took the trash out back and moved on to the bathroom to remove all signs of female life. Her wax strips, razor and shaving cream were unceremoniously dumped in a basket under the sink before she threw her dirty clothes in the laundry hamper. Finally, she changed the sheets on the bed, not remembering if she had done so before leaving in order to come home to an already fresh set of sheets.

The front door opened just as she finished fluffing the pillows. She made her way back down, drawn by the familiar scent that reminded her of her many amazing family nights growing up. Sy finished taking his boots off then lifted the paper bag. “Kitchen or couch?”

“It’s probably best if we eat this at a table but we can do a movie on the couch afterwards.”

“Sounds good.”

It was difficult to maintain any kind of conversation over dinner with how messy the burgers were but they both devoured their food so fast that there wasn’t enough time for it to get awkward.

“You were right,” Sy declared after finishing the final bite of his burger. “I’ll be dreamin’ of that meal once we get back.”

“How you just ate two of those and haven’t yet fallen into a food coma I do not understand.”

Although, in Leah’s experience, the more she trained and gained muscle, the hungrier she got. With a body like Sy’s—which looked to be about ninety percent muscle—he was probably capable of eating that much on a daily basis.

Sy huffed a laugh at her comment, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. “I may still fall asleep during the movie.”

Leah stood, throwing the wrappers in the trash and swapping the empty soda cups for beer bottles from the fridge.

“I need to take the wrap off my tattoo before we do that. My jeans are pressing on my skin and it’s starting to hurt.”

Sy opened his eyes, reaching a hand out to catch Leah around the waist and pull her to sit sideways on his lap. She didn’t resist, letting herself be moved and putting an arm around his shoulders.

“Don’t stay uncomfortable on my account.” His thumb traced the exposed skin of her side. “What would ya have put on if I hadn’t been here?”

A shiver ran down Leah’s spine at the gentle touch. “Umm… Probably an old t-shirt and boyshorts.”

“Ya didn’t seem worried about undressin’ at the shop. Would it be different with it just bein’ the two of us here?”

No, she hadn’t been worried at the shop and she wouldn’t be uncomfortable undressing now. However, she did care about her appearance. Comfortable and sexy didn’t often go hand in hand. Leah may not have been trying to tempt Sy into bed but she didn’t want to look like a slob either.

“I guess I shoulda asked before now,” he added after a moment without an answer, “but do ya wanna tell me what your limits are?”

Leah wasn’t quite sure what Sy meant but she’d only heard the word ‘limits’ used in a handful of contexts.

“Like kink limits?”

“That too but I meant any sort of boundaries ya have.”

Sy took a deep inhale, his expression turning thoughtful as he carefully considered his words. The last thing he wanted was for Leah to misunderstand his intentions.

“Imma be honest here,” his tongue darted out, wetting his lips. “I don’t care if we don’t have sex or if we don’t do anything else that would get either of us off but it would be real hard for me if physical contact was fully off the table. I don’t ever want to make you uncomfortable or do something against your will. If there’s anywhere ya don’t want to be touched I’d appreciate ya lettin’ me know before I do something wrong.”

“Is that why we’re having this conversation with me sitting on your lap?”

Sy looked down as if he hadn’t realized what he’d done. It was like wanting to have her close was so deeply ingrained in him that he’d done it on instinct.

“Yeah, sorry.”

He moved to lift her off but Leah stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“No, it’s okay, I like this. I’m okay with cuddling, kissing or sitting on your lap but…”

“But I should keep my hands in safe territory and avoid anything sexual?” Sy finished when she hesitated for too long.

“Yes but no…” Leah shook her head, making her hair fall over her face. “I know it’s stupid but if you’re doing it for you then it’s usually okay but if it’s with the intention to get me off then it’s usually not.”

It made Sy angry to hear Leah talk about herself that way. It occurred to him that Leah, although confident in her physical abilities and skills in the field, always struggled to express her feelings or share personal thoughts. She usually responded better to specific questions but they still appeared to take a toll on her.

“It’s not stupid. Nothing ya feel is stupid, okay?” He held her tighter, moving a hand the back of her neck in the hopes that the gentle pressure would help soothe her. He was working off a hunch he’d had for a while that Leah had submissive tendencies. Though she didn’t like feeling out of control, Sy had an inkling that she would appreciate giving it up to someone she trusted. And that she needed more praise in her life. “You’re doin’ real good, darlin’, this is helpin’ me understand. When ya say it would be okay when it’s for me, would ya enjoy it or would ya tolerate it?”

“If I was in the right mood, I’d want to make you feel good and I’d enjoy it.”

“But you wouldn’t want me to reciprocate?”

Leah shook her head ‘no’.

“Okay. Thank you for tellin’ me.” Leah leaned into Sy’s hold on her nape, some of the tension finally leaving her body. “Is there a reason talkin' about this is so hard for ya?”

It scared him to ask the question but he needed to know if the reason for Leah’s discomfort was because of a bad past experience or if it was just how she was. Leah had kept her eyes averted the entire time and Sy fought the desire to tip her chin up, not wanting to risk her shutting down completely.

“I guess I find it embarrassing to explain so it was always easier to just act like I was into it.”

Sy touched his forehead to Leah’s temple, closing his eyes as he calmed himself.

“Don’t ever do that with me.” It wasn’t a request, it was an order. “If you’re not into it, nothing happens. We don’t need to get deeper into all this tonight but you have to promise me that much.”

Leah shifted on Sy’s lap, turning to face him more fully. Sy’s intense gaze met hers, conveying how deeply he cared about her and her wellbeing.

Feeling a little too overwhelmed for words, Leah pulled Sy forward and gently pressed her lips to his. He let himself be moved, giving her control to slowly explore the kiss.

When they parted, Leah had a shy smile on her face. “I promise.”

“Good girl.” He kissed her temple and tapped her good thigh twice. “Now go get comfy and I’ll finish cleanin’ up in here.”

“If I change then you should too.”

“I’m not the one with a massive wound on my leg but I can take my pants off if that’s what ya want.”

Leah rolled her eyes, biting back a smile. “Well, it wouldn’t be a hardship but I meant you should put on shorts or sweats or something.”

After Sy agreed to change, Leah went upstairs and made sure her tattoo was clean and dry before slipping on her boyshorts and oversized t-shirt. She looked herself up and down as she tied her hair into a loose ponytail, declaring herself as ready as she could be.

When she returned, Sy had already made himself comfortable on the couch, scrolling through the movie options. He’d changed into what looked like thin sweatpants and was stretched out in the corner of the L-shaped couch.

“Don’t move for a second.”

He watched as Leah pulled what looked like a drawer out from under the main section of the couch and popped it up to form a mattress sized couch.

“Well that’s convenient.”

“Dad got sick of me and Caleb fighting over the single ottoman we had so he bought this couch instead.”

Spotting the instant change in Leah’s mood, Sy stretched out his arm in invitation. She crawled forward, snuggling into his side and gratefully accepting his quiet comfort. Conveniently, Sy had chosen the side of the couch that allowed Leah to rest on her good hip so she made herself comfortable with her other leg over Sy’s lap.

“Did you find something to watch?”

Sy flipped through the titles again. “I don’t recognize most of the names but I’m up for Friday Night Lights, Taken, Coach Carter—”

“Ooh, I haven’t watched Coach Carter in forever.”

“Coach Carter it is.”

He started the movie and handed Leah her beer, taking a sip from his own. The weight of Leah’s body against Sy’s appease an ache that had been growing stronger in Sy since he’d met her. It had started in earnest after the whole Sharpie tattoo incident, turning into a bone deep need for her touch.

After careful consideration, he placed his hand on her thigh just above her knee. When she didn’t flinch with pain, he began tracing patterns over her skin.

They both managed to stay awake throughout the whole movie although Leah was definitely struggling to keep her eyes open. Sy switched off the television as the credits began to roll and slipped off the couch, leaving a grumbling Leah behind.

“Come on, baby girl, I’m sure your bed will be more comfortable.”

She smiled sleepily scooting out from the center of the couch. Sy couldn’t help himself, he leaned down and pulled Leah into his arms.

“I can walk, you know.”

“Yeah, but the last time I carried ya up a set of steps I couldn’t do it how I wanted. Indulge me.”

Leah pressed her nose into the crook of his neck, humming in appreciation. Sy carried Leah into the bathroom, seating her on the counter. “I’ll leave you to it while I go get my bag.”

“Okay. My room is the one on the left of the stairs.”

After brushing her teeth and relieving her bladder, Leah grabbed her trusty ink towel and set it up in her bed.

“What’s that for?” Sy asked as he came in and closed the door.

Leah took the tie out of her hair, shaking it out. “Blood is easy to get out but ink, not so much.”

“Only you could tell me that blood stains are easy to get out as if it’s an everyday occurrence and without a lick of sarcasm.”

Sy reached behind his head, pulling his shirt off by the collar. Leah shamelessly studied his chest and stomach. His hair had grown back but she didn’t mind it one bit. The pants came off next, leaving Sy in only his underwear and the man looked damn good.

“Well,” she began, shaking herself out of her six-pack induced trance and getting under the covers, “all you need is hydrogen peroxide and it comes right out.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sy joked, catching Leah’s chin and tipping her head up for a languid kiss that made her melt into the mattress.

“G’night,” he whispered, placing a final peck on her cheek before switching off the light.

Reversing their positions from their night at the motel, Sy slipped an arm under Leah’s head and drew her closer until her back was pressed to his chest. After a short moment of silence, Sy spoke up again. “For the record, the southern charm worked.”

Chapter 21

#captain syverson #captain syverson fic #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson fanfiction #cpt syverson #cpt syverson fic #cpt syverson fanfiction #henry cavill #cpt syverson fanfic #cpt syverson x ofc #captain syverson x ofc

35 notes · View notes

saintone · 2 years

Text

@everyonesfavoritebastard left this quesiton on my latest post and i decided to answer them instead of studying!

We could say sqq goes from hero to villan bc its something very common in fiction, that the villan is a failed hero. I think this hapoenes to og-lbh too.

BUT sqq wasnt a villan, he WAS MADE the villan by others.

Everyone saw him as one. Like he was given that lable. But i dont think he was a villan, per se. He wasn't evil, he didnt do evil. He tortured Binghe as a child, that's true, but outside his wicked obsession with hurting Binghe bc of his trauma, he wasnt going out and doing evil. He was actually pretty good, taking in consideration that he still was a cultivator who helped others, that in any situation in the novel where he had to choose wether to save someone or let them die, he choose the first option, even at his sake (In contrast, at the end og-lbh was truly evil, and didnt care about anyone if he didnt get something in exchange. Women were prices, people were subjects. He was god).

Outside of having a sharp tongue, Sqq didnt hurt others (except binghe, oc). Like, he could have been much more worse. We are talking about a smart, cunning, maybe not the strongest, but he still was strong- with a SHITTON of trauma on his back. Shen Jiu could have been a real menance, and that's something i would like to see bc i think that if he set his mind to it he would have been unstoppable.

Like someone with Sqq's background could have been crazy. A compleate psycopath. Even with his mental problems, he had some real solid mental streght bc WOW. Everything he went through? Sometimes fans talk about what sqq could have been if he grew above his trauma. He was GREAT. His trauma didnt break him. He was standing, he was kinda good, kind, he was still alive.

He could perfectly have cursed the world like binghe did and use his powers to destroy it.

But he didnt.

First if all I dont think he cared enough. Like at the end he barely cared about his martial brothers and what they thought of him. And that's bc, and we always forget, that at that point of the story Sqq was heavily depressed. He suffered from insomnia, from trauma, his insecurities, his fears.

The man didnt even care when he was taken by lbh.

About sqh decision of making him the villan, we kinda know he didnt want to. We dont know the og story, but sqh said shen yuan and bingmei's relationship was "closest to what he had pictured at the beginning". So no, Sqh didnt want to make sqq a bad guy. He was supposed to have a relatevely good relationship with binghe, or maybe at least a good ending, or a better story.

The problem is at some point, sgh stops making the decisions about the story. It slips through his control. Sqq becoming the villan is like him being misunderstood: maybe, his martial brothers are nothing more than a reflection of the fans, who despice sqq without trying to understand him (and sy is our examplary fan).

The other day I saw a video that called shen jiu "the villan of a wrongly told story". And thats it. Thats the key of understanding SVSSS to me. The story had to be told THREE TIMES bc it kept failing (sqh's original story, PIDW and SWSSS). Inside SVSSS, there are three stories intervined. But the only one we dont know about is the first one: we only have some snippets.

And reflecting abput the way our enonomic system shapes the way we tell stories or force creative works to adapt to the rules of capilasim is also a greaat thing to analize.

Even better than that, how authors lose control of their stories.

At that, MXTX probably wont agree with my theories. She has said that Sqq deserved what happened to him and that he wont reincarnate. So sj is dead, dead dead, gone. In my very personal opinion, bc Shen jiu is a not a villanous villan, in MDZS she made Jin GuangYao undoubtely evil (like yeah, he was mistreated, but THATS an evil character who doesnt care about others! Thats selfishness! Sqq doesnt have a drop of selfishness in his characterization). To make sure her villan wasnt idealized this time.

The thing with SVSSS is: the story went wrong. The characters went wrong. Something happened. It was not supposed to go like that, but it did. Sqh didnt wanted it, but it happened.

Wtf is the system? Good quesiton. I have no idea. Is it fate? No, bc fate according to the creator was something else, a different ending for the story.

I think, the system its the narrative. The plot. Something there to keep the story going. Some people have theoriziced that it was evil, and that kinda could make sense, and then we would have a true villan in the story.

Though Im not sure we have arguments solid enough for that one.

Maybe the OCC warnings, and now im just guessing, could be bc the og MC was Shen Jiu, so the system wanted a protagonist the most alike to sqq.

I also have this personal theory, that the reason everyone accepts Sy so easily is bc they already wanted to get along with Sqq. Like the guy was pretty asome. And undoubtely attractive. This sounds basic, but it is centifically proven that we like drawn to good looking people. Cang Qiong peak lord had truly no reason to reject Sqq from tje begining. The werent that bad either. Its just the mistook him, and then they hated him, bc instead of the person THEY wanted him to be, the person THEY wanted to get along with, Sqq didnt give shit about them. Pero lords were bitter tm.

So maybe the system wanted to prove that his sqq could fit. That sqq didnt need to CHANGE to be accepted.

But i also think this is too daydreamy thou.

If the system is the plot, assuring the story continues how it should, but with a protagonist that hopefully wont fail this time, there are also some things that it has to make sure are fulfilled. Missions, arcs, and the correct flow of the characters. Nobody likes it when a story makes a 360° with no reason.

So yeah. Idk if i answered anything hahaha. At this point im just wordvomitting my SVSSS theorys bc I think its a great work.

Also i should be studying.

#scumbag system #svsss novel #scumbag self saving system #shen jiu #luo binghe #yue qingyuan #shen qingqiu #bingjiu #liu qingge #shen yuan

120 notes · View notes

spreadyourwingsc · 1 year

Text

Sy and Soirse. Chapter 9

Summary: Sy and Soirse figure their way through their relationship, before, during and after Sy is deployed.

Disclaimer: This is the first story I have ever written and published. Capt Syverson is not my own. Soirse is, I don’t intend to offend anyone nor anyones culture with my story, if you feel that this content belongs to you or anyone else, please let me know and I will delete it.

TW: This story contains: violence, attempted SA, strong language and mature scenes, please proceed cautiously, you’d been advised. If there’s something I missed, please let me know

AN: I’m open to any suggestion and advices, I don’t know where the story is going yet, but if you want to help me write it, or better it!, please let me know!

Chapter 9

Like another mission, he got up from the couch and headed to the shower. He stinked not having showered for a few days, but he was determined to go and talk to her.

Later that night, Saorsie found herself on her dining table, grading papers with a cup of wine, when she heard the unmistakable sound of stones on windows. Now, they were not coming from outside her bedroom’s window like they used to in her parents house, but from her living room.

She opened the curtains and there he was, looking fresh, with a bouquet of roses, this was definitely not the boy she knew back then, but the eyes, the eyes were all the same, the deepest blue, and the intense gaze.

“What are you doing here Sy?” she asked, opening her window.

“I came to explain-”

“I don't want to hear it”

“Please” he pleaded

It took a moment, but she closed the window. He stood there in disbelief, about to turn around. when he heard her front door open and held it for him to come in, at this he smiled. But once inside, he was feeling so sure about his decision on his way there, but now that he stood there in front of her, words seemed to leave his mind.

He really didn't know what to say, instead he took a chance to really admire her, how much she's grown, her hair darker now, her body was well kept, she was still a tiny fierce thing, and he felt something inside stirring, he still loved her all the same.

“Well?” she patiently asked him, feeling self conscious about his starring.

“These are for you” he handed her the flowers. She took them and they smelled so good, she put them in a vase right away.

Sy was surveying the space of her place, it looked homey, but also minimalistic, she had some pictures of what assumed were her brothers and nephews, and her whole family, also some other people which him did not recognize, her in another country, He saw the papers and the bottle of wine at her dining table.

“So you've become a teacher i see”.

“You saw me at the school” she said curtly.

“Saor…im- actually no, listen i came to say what i have to say…they cut me off Saor, they stripped me from everything. I had no choice-I wanted to reach out to you so bad, I really did but they…that old guy that you met, that Logan is gone, dead…and all i could think about was you-”

“They wanted me to become the ultimate vigilante, and they did…i am not proud of things i’ve done, but I was captive, I got-, i- they tortured me Saor, in the worst ways…first the military, then some terrorists, in Iraq-...i’ve barely made it”

“I am here now because they figured it that in order for me to continue i had to have a break…i had to have a break or i wouldn't make it back”.

“Back?” she was in tears “You say you went through all this shit and you have to make it back?” she yelled at him.

“Its not like i had any fucking other choice remember?” he shouted back “It was either this or jail! YOU got me out of jail remember?!!!”

“AND THAT’S A BAD THING?, would you rather you stay there, ruining your life, your future SY! I had to do something!”

“I know, and I'm not blaming you, sweet thing” he said even more calmly, approaching her.

“I wish things were different, but those were the terms and I …I would do it a thousand times over again”.

“Sy…”

“I mean it, baby”.

“Don't call me that” she said as they touched their foreheads together, his hands were holding her hips as she put her hands on his chest, not sure if she wanted to push him away or pull him closer.

“Please, I’m not asking for anything more, I just- I just want forgiveness, and for you to know that, ive never stopped thinking about you, about us, I- A part of me wanted to end it, to kill myself in the middle of the fucking desert, but another part of me has always had hope that I would have come back to you”.

They finally locked their lips together, finally sharing that kiss that they both longed for so desperately for one another, as he took her to bed, for the first time in five years, she never thought they would be there again, getting acquainted with one another.

And the days passed it was like starting all over again, while there was this nagging feeling in the back of Saoirse’s mind that everything could get away so easily

Thanks for reading!

#captain syverson

3 notes · View notes

delicioussshame · 2 years

Text

A while ago, I wrote a trash modern AU featuring SY pretending to be SJ to teach OLBH. Here’s more.

Luo Binghe has been told before that he’s not a nice man.

He would dispute that. He can be perfectly pleasant and kind to those who deserve it. He just has no desire to extend that kindness to those who don’t.

Shen Jiu of all people does not deserve kindness, not when he’d never shown any to him.

Shen Yuan, on the other hand, has been the ray of sunshine he’d never known he needed. Sure, their relationship had been built on deception, but they were on the same page now.

So he does not deserve what is going to happen, but Shen Jiu very much does, as far as Luo Binghe is concerned. He’ll make it up to Shen Yuan somehow later.

Not that he has any complaint at the moment. It had taken a while to convince him that the couch was a perfectly fine location to let Luo Binghe do whatever he wants, but now that he has, being outside the bedroom is the last thing on Shen Yuan’s mind.

Having Shen Yuan under him like this also allows him to keep watch on the front door, carefully kept unlocked.

Luo Binghe makes sure that Shen Yuan is loud enough to bury the clicking of the door opening, and hides his mirth in his favorite teacher’s hair.

“What the fuck. What. The. Fuck. Get away from Yuan!”

Shen Yuan freezes under him before he stretches his neck to look over the armrest. “…Jiu-ge?”

Luo Binghe feels a bit bad when Shen Yuan proceeds to die on the spot.

He pulls out, the mood has been thoroughly ruined, and drapes Shen Yuan in the nearby thrown blanket.

He doesn’t bother covering himself. He has nothing to hide, and Shen Jiu should have a chance to realise what he passed on.

Shen Jiu tries to punch him.

Luo Binghe catches his punch with ease and just as easily traps his arms behind his back, plastering himself against him at the same time. “Shen Jiu is the one who rudely barged in and he thinks he gets to be offended? I should be the one punching him. Look how perturbed Shen-laoshi is. The least you could do is apologise.”

Shen Jiu struggles with all his might in Luo Binghe’s hold, which is cute. Guqin is not the only subject he’s been forced to take by his parents. To their despair, he’s just uninterested in music. He took to his self-defence classes much more enthusiastically. “This is your doing! Like hell I’m apologising!”

Shen Yuan peaks from under the blanket. “Jiu-ge, why are you here?”

“I thought you texted me, but obviously this fucking rapist stole your phone!”

“I resent that. Shen-laoshi very much consented.”

“Binghe, tell me you didn’t.”

“I didn’t.”

“Binghe!”

“Your brother just came back from his holiday, didn’t he? Don’t you want to see him? I thought it would be a good idea to… clear the air between the three of us and explain to him the most recent developments. He wouldn’t have come if I had called him, so I bypassed that.” He blinks coquettishly. “Sorry? I didn’t think he’d show up right now.”

“He’s a fucking liar. He gave me a time! He knew exactly what he was doing. It’s vengeance because I had zero interest in sitting on his dick and he couldn’t accept it. If I’d known he’d go this far, I’d never have let you near him.”

Luo Binghe is insulted. Shen Jiu isn’t completely wrong, but Luo Binghe did not choose to sleep with Shen Yuan to piss his brother off. He’s attractive on his own right.

He’s about to tell Shen Yuan just that, except he takes a look at Shen Yuan’s face and that’s when he realises he might have actually fucked up, because his hurt is so blatant Luo Binghe feels his stomach drop. “Laoshi, don’t listen to him, it’s not that-“

“You insisted on the couch.”

“I did, but-“

“You wanted this to happen.”

“It’s not-“

“You wanted my own brother to see me get fucked by his student I was tutoring! Oh my god, were you hoping he’d join in? You were, weren’t you? Fuck, how can I have been this stupid.”

Well, Luo Binghe did not think it was likely that Shen Jiu would join them, but he wouldn’t have complained if it had happened. Anyway, not the point. “A-Yuan, forgive me, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“For fuck’s sake, can you even hear yourself. Get the fuck out and never get anywhere near Yuan again or I’ll call the cops.”

Luo Binghe is getting angry. Whose fault is this mess again? If Shen Jiu hadn’t been such a bitch, this wouldn’t have happened to begin with. “You’ve got no right to order me around, Shen Jiu.”

“The both of you can get out right now.”

“Not happening. You’ve never been the smartest, but I didn’t think you were dumb enough to let him fuck you. I can’t leave you alone.”

“You’re both getting the fuck out of my apartment right now or I’m the one calling the cops.”

Having managed to spend not even one night in jail is one of the few things his parents are still proud of him for. If he messes this one up, they might just cut him off once and for all.

“Fine. I’ll talk to you later.”

“No you won’t.”

__________________

His parents aren’t even disappointed when “Shen Jiu” sends his notice of resignation the next day. They’re too used to the tutors they hire for their son giving up on him to be surprised.

Shen Yuan has blocked him everywhere. The doorman of his building has been notified not to let Luo Binghe in. He doesn’t really know enough about Shen Yuan to find him elsewhere. It’s not like they were dating, not really. Shen Yuan tried to make him decent at the guqin, and Luo Binghe tried to convince him his time would be better spent naked in Luo Binghe’s lap. Most of the time, he succeeded.

Well, it was nice while it lasted. Luo Binghe will just have to find someone else pretty to share a bed, or any other flat surface, with. It’s never been a problem before.

__________________

It appears it won’t be a problem again. Maybe his parents have finally caught on the fact that he’s nicer to the good-looking tutors, because the woman who shows up to replace Shen Yuan is gorgeous. Luo Binghe takes one look at the short hair teasing her nape and at the neckline just a tiny bit too low for propriety, and figures he hasn’t lost much.

Their third session ends with her legs around Luo Binghe’s head.

She doesn’t even touch her guqin during their fifth session.

He’s tired of her by their seventh meeting. She’s very attractive, no doubt about it, but she’s… nothing more than that. She’s boring.

Luo Binghe goes out and picks up a pretty little thing in a club.

He chooses a cute guy the next day.

He hits up a few of his old friends with benefits, half of which he’s vaguely considered marrying to shut his parents up at some point or once he’d gotten old enough that it was time to settle down.

They don’t do the trick either. They’re all just so… boring.

He admits to himself there’s a problem when he starts practising the guqin in his spare time. He’d gotten better at it. Luo Binghe masters anything he puts his mind to, and while he’d never wanted to become a classical musician like his parents, he had liked the way Shen Yuan smiled at him proudly when he played the right note.

He misses that smile.

That he’d miss Shen Yuan’s shocked expression each time Luo Binghe found another one of his weak points, or the breathless moan he’d let out when Luo Binghe hits the right spot just so, he expected, but that he’d miss being called “Binghe” in that fond tone, or that gentle slap at the back of his head when he went too far, or the way Shen Yuan could slip into downright rudeness when he was annoyed enough, he expected none of that. None of his booty calls could compensate for that.

Luo Binghe always gets what he wants. If that’s Shen Yuan, he’s going to get him back.

__________________

Luo Binghe spends days pondering scenarios on how to get Shen Yuan back into his life, but no matter how much time he wastes, it all comes to one conclusion.

He’s going to have to apologise properly.

He’s been an asshole. Luo Binghe himself has never felt shame, but he knows of it. He knew Shen Yuan wasn’t the type to shrug off unplanned exhibitionism, but he didn’t think he’d really care? Which he would have if he’d considered the matter further then “Shen Jiu will be so pissed off I’m fucking his brother. Serves him right.”

He can’t contact him indirectly, and he can’t go to his house, so work it is. How hard can it be to find out was Shen Yuan’s day job is?

__________________

Of course Shen Yuan teaches guqin classes to tiny children. Just like Luo Binghe can perfectly imagine Shen Jiu gritting his teeth through every private tutoring lesson he only agrees to to finance his recitals and competitions, he can see Shen Yuan giving up on becoming a professional player altogether in favor of teaching little monsters with no appreciation for the arts. He has the patience for it.

That’s why he was such a good teacher to Luo Binghe, wasn’t it? He was used to brats; Luo Binghe was nothing to him.

Children run out of the class while Luo Binghe waits, idly flirting with a MILF waiting for her spawn to leave.

Shen Yuan is still busy, a forced smile on his face as he’s probably trying to explain to a child that he really, really doesn’t have to pull at the cords this hard.

For a second, Luo Binghe imagines he’d be a wonderful parent to their children.

He’s horrified the next second. Shen Yuan must never know he has the terrifying power of making Luo Binghe consider getting a dog and three children.

He could hit his head against the wall. He’s got it so bad. He must do something about it.

The moment Shen Yuan notices him waiting is the moment he starts getting visibly red and about five seconds away from screaming.

Luo Binghe gestures to the waiting parents and chatty children still around.

Shen Yuan turns sheepish and returns to bidding his students farewell.

Luo Binghe resolves to look away from the cuteness.

“What are you doing here. I thought I’d been clear.”

Luo Binghe has no desire to drag this on. “I’m sorry. I hate your brother, he hates me back, but you’re both really hot and I knew seeing us together would piss him off like nothing else and I didn’t think about how you’d take it.”

Shen Yuan is bright red. “Shut up! Come here!”

Luo Binghe is being dragged into a large closet.

Oh, that must be Shen Yuan’s office.

Luo Binghe is not going to suggest he makes amends by blowing Shen Yuan at his desk. Now is not the time.

Another time, maybe.

“Why are you showing up at work to tell me this!”

“You didn’t give me many other options.”

“I made myself clear! We’re done.”

“Give me another chance. I swear I’ll do better.”

“It wouldn’t be hard.”

Luo Binghe smiles charmingly. “I should be able to manage it then.”

“Why bother? You got what you wanted. My brother is never going to forgive me. I think he seriously considered getting me evaluated for having slept with you.”

“I didn’t.”

“You didn’t what?”

“Get what I wanted.”

“Yes you did.”

“Maybe, but not anymore.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Let me take you out.”

“What?”

“On a date. Let me take you on a proper date.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

Shen Yuan shakes his head. “I don’t have time for this. You’re… You know how you look. You can have anyone. Just leave me alone.”

“I don’t want anyone. I want you.”

He starts feeling hopeful when Shen Yuan shivers slightly. “Why?”

“I like you. The woman who replaced you can barely play, let alone teach, and she doesn’t tell me I’m a good boy when I play well.”

Shen Yuan blushes. “Neither did I!”

“But you could. And if you did, it wouldn’t even be dirty. You’d be earnest about it, and I’d tell you what a good boy I could be for Daddy, and you’d blush like you are right now, but instead of bending you over the desk I’d just laugh and take you out for dinner, and wouldn’t that be nice? I think it’d be nice. You could keep on arguing about it over the meal, and after we could go see a show or a concert or just go on our separate way, and yes, I’d prefer we get a hotel room, but even if we didn’t it’d be better than missing you like I am now, so yes, I’m here to apologise for being an idiot and fucking up the one relationship I honestly want to be serious about.”

Shen Yuan being such a softie is part of the reason why Luo Binghe is so enamoured with him. “Shen Jiu is going to kill me, but mostly you.”

Luo Binghe shrugs. “I can take him. Or pay him off.”

Shen Yuan laughs. “He’d probably take the second.”

“Consider it done.” Giving Shen Jiu money will piss him off, but if that’s the literal price to pay to get Shen Yuan back, it’ll be worth it. “Does this mean I can start planning?” Cause he’ll have to. He has one chance. The date must be perfect.

Shen Yuan won’t know what hits him.

“If you put one finger on my person, I’m getting a restraining order, stalker.”

Luo Binghe raises both his hands up. “Message received. Can I put other things instead?”

Shen Yuan slaps him with so little strength it’s almost a caress. “I have no idea why I’m giving you another chance. Stop reminding me of that.”

To be honest, neither does Luo Binghe, but he’s not going to tell him that. “How about next Saturday?”

Shen Yuan sighs and surrenders. “Fine. Whatever.”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“You better.”

Luo Binghe really, really wants to seal that promise with a kiss and more, but because this new him is a gentleman, he stops himself.

It’s gonna be hard, but hopefully, it’ll be worth it.

#The Scum Villain Self Serving System #Scum Villain #OriginalLBH/SY

26 notes · View notes

honestsycrets · 3 years

Text

Say Your Piece II: Heart Breaker

❛ pairing | hvitserk x reader, hvitserk x ?

❛ type | double triple? shot, mistakes were made au

❛ chp summary | after the reader says she doesn’t want hvitserk; he makes a bad decision. it gets worse from there.

❛ tags | plus size reader, verbal arguments, extreme social anxiety, extreme body insecurity, drinking, hateful words, illustrator hvitserk x writer reader, mention of infidelity, shame, OCs, sexual frustration, blackmail, cheating mentioned, verbal abuse, sexual blackmail, poor communication? it’s more likely than you think. tags to be added.

❛ request | So Hvitserk request (you a asked for it 😂) Remember the Little Lovers event and the self-conscient plus size reader who didn’t want to have sex ?Well I didn’t get the sex lol. I want my Hvitserk to show a woman how her body is enjoyable. Thank you 😊 for @alicedopey

❛ sy’s note | i’ll eventually get you your sex scene, DAMN IT.

He wakes with a blaring headache caused by a stream of fresh morning light against his soft cheek. He pulls his arms around you-- or, what he thought was you, as the moment he does so, he knows it’s wrong. Where soft folds and overflowing breasts were, he finds thin limbs and small breasts.

It’s not your body-- he realizes all at once. The high rise apartment that overlooked the city wasn’t, either. It was the fruit of an accomplished older woman, whose many books hovered on a white shelf beside a white bed. Everything in the room holds the same pure standard. He flings himself from the bed, his naked ass colliding with a nightstand. The items ripple over the surface and settle into new positions. The woman pushes up, dragging the painfully monochrome white fluffy sheet to cover her flat chest.

“Hvitserk?”

Erika, in all her sharp-eyed glory, stares right back at him. Vomit spins up his throat, incited by the affection by with her eyes considered him. Hvitserk scrambles over the perfectly plain hardwood floors, upchucking up what’s left of his agitated stomach after his pathetic night out on the town.

“Hvitserk!”

Her spindly hand is at his back. Ordinarily, she was a comfort in your absence. That despite her pushing, and pushing, and pushing to get your name off “his” book, she would always be there for him in ways that a lover could not. Author-illustrators make so much more than being an illustrator alone, she reminded him. Her considerate words now feel like measured steps against his relationship. Her touch rips his skin into gooseflesh. Hvitserk works his shoulder away, his knuckles becoming white around the bowl.

“You drank too much last night.” it’s a non-question. Obviously, if he were here, he had. He groans his miserable response into the toilet bowl, wishing he could smother himself in the water, as it would be a better punishment than anything his girlfriend could do to him. “I’ll make you some coffee.”

Her steps become distant echoes. When he finishes and cleans after himself, he starts his search for his clothes. He picks them from a singular pile, draws them back on, and reaches for his phone. It bleats a miserable eight percent battery life.

“She didn’t call if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Ericka stands in a silvery slip; although he’s not sure when she put on some clothes. She hands him his cup of coffee and takes a seat on her “divorce couch”, a plain grey chair that she scammed her ex-husband out of. As she sits there, all long limbs, and purposefully sultry clothes-- the guilt strikes him.

Hvitserk takes a sip of bitter, burnt black coffee. She’s never been a great coffee maker but her heart is in the right place. It wouldn’t feel right to snuff her. After all, he probably spent the night before buried in her cunt.

“You called me to pick you up at the bar last night. You were so drunk all you wanted to do was lay on my chest,” Ericka pulls a sheer black kimono over her thin collarbones. His eyes fall on her hands. “I told you she’d break your heart. Women like that-- once they get over a certain weight-- they aren’t emotionally available to do anything but eat. It consumes them.”

“She ain’t like that.”

“If she’s not like that, then why did you have sex with me? Be honest with yourself, Hvitserk. Your needs aren’t met with her. That’s why you needed me.”

His mouth runs dry. Like he’s been chewing on his regret as if it were paper. He couldn’t remember the night before. It was like a bad memory he never wanted to recover. Hvitserk glances down to his cup as he sinks onto her bed.

“It was an accident,” he glares at the surface. “I- You know I can’t be with you, right? You’re--”

“Old?” she asks. He’s never cared about something as simple as that. Twelve years his senior or not, it wasn’t an issue.

“It’s not that. C’mon Erika, you know I don’t give a shit about age. She’s my baby girl.”

“You’re going to stay with her? A woman like that?”

“Like what?” Hvitserk sets the coffee on the nightstand as he snaps at her before he could bite it back. He knew what she meant. Erika’s long ranging sigh reminds him of Aslaug. How tenderly her hands would wrap around him even though they were truly tainted with alcohol perfuming off her breath.

“I’ve been your agent for years Hvitserk. We go through this every time you find a girl. This oen is by far the worst. She doesn’t care about you. Look at all that work you did for her yesterday. The pendant you bought her. The work you’ve put into her books! You even pick up all the food she eats. She won’t go outside of her house and you still expect that she’ll suddenly become this fat trophy wife on your arm.”

“Just because she’s fat don’t--”

“It isn’t about the fat, Hvitserk. How many times does she have to show you, or tell you for you to get the picture through your stupid head, huh? She doesn’t want you! And you have the balls to call me a fucking accident.”

“Erika--”

She leaps up from her chair. Hvitserk sucks in a hard breath and tries to find sense through the nonsense, looking through his phone. Erika was right. You hadn’t sent a message. Not in his texts, not on his social media. More egregiously, he spots a new post. Ericka’s hands fold over his, pushing him back to sit on the bed. She slides over his thin hips and takes a seat on his empty lap. It was painfully simple, painfully domestic, and painfully wrong.

“Let me tell you what I’ve learned in forty years,” Erika whispered in his ear. Her thin lips move, gliding like butter in his ear. “If someone doesn’t want you, there’s nothing you can do to change that.” Her fingers comb through his hair, like slimy tendrils. “But I’m here.”

Hvitserk tips his head nack, gazing at the ceiling. Her palm caresses his scruffy jawline to drag his attention from the ceiling to her soft blue eyes, a painless depth, if only he would listen to her words. Hvitserk shifts her back on the bed, loitering around her waist with a supportive hand on the base of her back.

“I know you care ‘bout me. I just-- need some time, okay?”

It doesn’t slip him that she’s scowling as he walks out of her home. There was someone he could count upon, when things were difficult, his phone buzzing in his palm reminded him of that.

“Hey, Ivar.”

Or, maybe not.

“You fucked her?” Ivar stopped chewing his pastry, ambling his head one way then another, laughing against himself. He took his mug of properly brewed coffee to his lips. Hvitserk regrets agreeing to meet him at the cafe. “What were you thinking sleeping with your agent?”

“I wasn’t thinking! I was drunk--” Hvitserk set his hand to his forehead. He has no appetite as he cycled through what he had done, searching out the moment that he called Erika. He fails to locate anything but quiet sobbing behind the neck of a beer bottle and a distant, squeamish feeling of fingers down his nape. “I think she took advantage of me.”

Ivar sets down his cup of coffee, picking up a fork and knife as he leaned over the table, lips punctuating each word.

“Yes, well, I am sure that will go over with your girlfriend well. I’m sorry, I slept with my skinny, well-established agent who has been wanting me to get rid of you. That bitch has been after you for years. What do you think she will do now? She won’t let you go.”

“She understands,” he reflects at the monochrome crowd. His plate is full but has gone cold with his lack of appetite. Normally, this was the place he came with his brother to binge breakfast and muse about women. Ubbe wouldn’t care about his issues: he never had time for anyone but himself. Not really. Ivar scoffed, gazing into the foot traffic flitting by their cafe.

“Tch, I’m sure she does. She will probably break up with you.”

He bobbed his head.

“I think she already has.”

A normal man would come to beg.

But Hvitserk draws in the deep quiet of the park. With only the barks of dogs, the giggles of children, and the occasional frequency from couples watching movies in the park, it’s a place of solace by the small pond.

He starts with an outline of Xiao’s small face. It’s a rough outline, budding and ready to be kissed with by watercolours. Soft pinks like petals of peonies droop in his photo. He must have blended this shade wrong. Line after line that he sweeps, he weeps. His phone jingles in his pocket and his heart tightens around his chest like a straight jacket to someone in an insane asylum. He must be going crazy-- if he too can no longer paint.

“Where are you?!” you boom on the other end of the line. Hvitserk fumbles his phone, suckling in a breath. Had Ivar told you? No, his brother wouldn’t. Not Ivar. He was never a gossiper.

“In-- in the park?”

“What has gotten into you? You could have at least texted me to tell me you were okay. I was worried sick!”

You? Worried sick? This wasn’t the you from yesterday. The one that pelted out how selfish he was for craving intimacy. The one that told him that all he wanted was to sexualize you. As if he were some sixty year old pervert with a camera in hand to click a picture of under your beautiful pastel skirts. Hvitserk sets the brushes into his cup of water and sets aside Xiao’s painting to dry.

“Hvitserk!”

“I’m here,” he blurts out. “I didn’t think you’d care. You didn’t call.”

“Like I didn’t I call you all night.”

Something cracks, deep in his belly. With all the days of work he’d done for you and you alone, he forgot himself in the mix. He jerked his phone back, frantically looking at his phone app. No recent calls meant what they meant. When he finds nothing, it only thrusts him into a further rage.

“Bullshit,” he belts out. “You didn’t. You didn’t care about me last night. You never fuckin’ do.”

“Hvit--” he turns off his phone. There was a sliver of a moment in which he regrets that on the basis of last night. Maybe you rejected him, but he wasn’t an idiot. A man simply didn’t cheat on his girlfriend because she said no.

He packs up his bag and heads toward the football field. It’s time to play football.

He smashes Ubbe on the field. If he wasn’t at peace with being an illustrator, maybe he could have been a ballplayer. Flipping the ball from foot to foot with Ubbe on his trailing his tail was fun, but watching him try and miss as he thwacked the ball on its net was even better. Unlike Ubbe’s well-proportioned body, he’s all long limbs and quick feet. Just the right combination to slip out of Ubbe’s grasp. Well, that was, until Ubbe tackled his ass onto the blades of grass, sending the both of them rolling through the grasp.

“Bro, really?!” Hvitserk laughs, dropping back onto the grass. The skid marks on his clothes would be unreal.

“If I can’t catch you,” Ubbe heaves, digging his hand into his pocket. He finds his phone there, vibrating with messages from Torvi: probably. Hvitserk shoves his arms behind his neck, drawing out breath after ragged breath.

“Wanna go eat?”

“Na,” Ubbe shoves himself onto your feet. “Your girl is here.”

His what? Ubbe rushes off. A sinking feeling came over his clammy hands. He opens his mouth to beg him not to go, to take him along with like he used to as a child. He’s terrible at making up and hours ago, he’d hung up on you. His lips press together, soothing himself with the false pretense that-- no, it would be fine. If you didn’t apologize, perhaps neither would he.

He finds you on the other side of the soccer field, fashioning his favorite sundress. There’s something glamorous about its corset bodice and its draped sleeves that left him breathless. He wills down his terrible arousal, drawn to the pendant he bought you nestled between your large breasts. You wait for him by his things, pulling the rim of a broad pale hat and looking down at beautiful chunky nude heels.

You’re beautiful and terrifying all in one. He regains himself enough to make his legs solidify from the liquidy mass they were seconds ago. He might feel much like a newborn calf falling over himself to get his things, but perhaps he looked better than he felt. Women like sweaty, stupid men, right?

“What are you doing here?” he picks up his things. “I thought you didn’t like to be seen in public.”

“You hung up on me,” you hold his tablet flush against your dress and offer it out to him. He takes it and secures it back in his bag. “I had to come to find you.”

“Yeah? I’ll bet.” Hvitserk wills down the painful throbbing behind his joggers, pulling his bag to obscure the pain he was in. The sooner he went home, the sooner he could jerk himself off without the overwhelming guilt of being, as he was, a whore. Why couldn’t he stay mad? He wanted to stay mad! “You look... nice. Never seen you looking so nice. What’s the occasion?”

“You like it?” You pull out the skirt and stop to do a twirl that he curses himself for stopping for. Normally, his girl wouldn’t even go outside. Who was this? He’s aware of others watching-- the fat girl in a flashy dress. “I wore it for you.”

“Yeah, I do.” He moistens his lips, his voice raspy and thick. “Looks like an angel.”

“Does that mean you’ll come back home?” You reach out for him. Your soft hands winding around his well-corded arm. He realizes then, the confidence in which you carried yourself masked the desperation in your hands. They trembled over his bicep. “I’ll be good, I promise I won’t yell at you again like that. I wouldn’t even be mad if you-- you found someone else to fuck. I know you-- I know you need it. If you can’t get it from me, I can wait on the side. As long as you’re not in love.”

“Hey,” he softened, settling his hand atop of yours. He stops midstep, turning on his high tops on the sidewalk. He takes your hands and listens waits for your outpouring of emotion. Traffic passes by him. They speak in hushed whispers. “Hey, hey, hey. Baby girl wait-- that’s not -- what are you talking about?”

“I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to yell at you like that but you were pushing and pushing and wouldn’t stop! I didn’t know what to do. I want to have sex with you,” you squeeze his fingertips. “But you don’t know what it’s like to be fat, old virgin.”

He was trying to listen. He really was. The moment you spoke that word: that v-word, his mind went blank and numb. You’re still talking long after he’s stopped listening. Hvitserk sucks in a breath: it sends him into a flurry, pursuing the bone of your virginity long after you’ve stopped talking.

“What do you--” his lips twitch, drawing in a smile. “--mean a virgin?”

“I haven’t had sex-- I… I wanted to--”

His girl-- a virgin. He wants to smile, if not for the knowledge of the other night, waking up in Erika’s itchy sheets. Hvitserk knows that he has to tell you, he only doesn’t know how. You’re talking again.

“What did you say?” he asks.

“I want you to do it,” you answer. “Right now. Just forgive me.”

He about drops, a moistness coming over his mouth that he can’t-- exactly-- help. His palms feel just as hot, sweating as he pulls them free from yours. Clearing his throat, he slips his hand against the small of your back.

“Na, let’s… let’s take it easy. We’ll talk ‘bout it later.”

He wants that virginity.

But logically, oh woe is he, he knows it’s not really right to take someone’s virginity if they’re not all there. You’re not all there because you don’t know of that night. It’s like, consent, right? Bad consent was just jerking your ankle like some Viking and dragging you into bed with him. If he was going to do it, he told himself, you had to know what he’d done.

It was a slip-up.

Hvitserk finished another drawing for his new book independent of your input. It was a children’s book about good bodies-- because as he looked at your good body, he was reminded of Ericka’s cruel words. He wanted to do better for lil kids.

“Hvitserk, your phone is ringing,” you said pointedly from across the room where you sat like a madwoman. Your frantic papers sat nestled around a basket of shared chicken he made for lunch.

“Huh?” Tapping over, he recognizes Erika’s photo, planting a kiss on his cheek on his first big break. She had been the first one to really believe in him. It was a long time ago now, he reminds himself to change that to something more… suitable after last night. He gestures his fingers at you. “Thanks, baby girl.”

He answers the phone. The moment he does, he hears Erika’s flat voice snaking into a hiss. It’s a noise that he hasn’t heard. Not in all his years of having her as his patient agent.

“You’re with her, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m uh-- with Ubbe.” He throws you a glance. You tilt your head, he shakes his, and that’s the terrible loneliness of holding a secret. “Erika--” Hvitserk sighs, parting his lips to talk. She shushes him with such severity that he thinks she’s trying to lop his head off, too.

“Break it off.”

“What?”

He steps outside and leans against the cold metal door separating the high-rise apartments from, well, the outside world. He expects to see her standing out there. All he finds are the many cars parked on the street and the stillness of movement. It’s too quiet. The whistle of the wind through the street chills him.

“I know you’re with her. I can tell her for you if you’d like.”

“No. Don’t--” Hvitserk sighs, searching for the words in the silence. “I don’t think you understand. We worked through it.”

She laughs something from deep in her belly at him.

“I wasn’t asking. Either you do it— or I’ll make you do it. You obviously don’t know what’s best for yourself. Why else are you fucking around with some--” He collapses on the stairs, cradling the phone to his ear as she goes on. “Don’t think I won’t expose her for what she is. A thief.”

“She’s never-- Why the fuck are you doing this?”

“You told me you would take care of it. Something you’ve failed to do-- I should have known you couldn’t do it. ”

“If this shit is about yesterday--”

“I’ll give you one more chance to break it off if you come over tonight.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” There’s a pause on the other line. Then a chuckle. A long winded, painful chuckle. He should have known better. That night-- calling it an accident wasn’t exactly tolerable for a woman like Erika. She wasn’t the kind of woman who could be easily ignored.

“If that’s what I have to do.”

He chokes out a sob. Ivar was right. She wasn’t going to let him go.

“Fuckin’-- fuckin’ fine.”

@punkrocknpearls @flowers-in-your-hayr @tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer @medievalfangirl @sallydelys @bluearchersstuff @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever @destynelseclipsa @soleil-dor @strangunddurm @superwolfchild-fan @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie

#Hvitserk x Reader #Hvitserk x OC #Hvitserk/Reader #hvitserk's heathen feast #hvitserk ragnarsson x reader #it feels good to write my baby #Hvitty x Reader #hvitty/reader #vikings imagines #vikings imagine #hvitserk x plus size reader #Vikings x Reader

108 notes · View notes

foodieforthoughts · 3 years

Text

Sand and Stars - Chapter Six

Series Summary: After the water pump being blown up, the insurgents in Baqubah are taking a hold of the food supply to the village. Camp Warhorse is in dire need of reinforcements. It has been eight months of submitting countless requests when the High Command commissions Sergeant Olivia Ross to take her group of men and women and help Captain Syverson and his team to restore a semblance of normalcy. But with the war raging, does it get two hearts closer too?

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC x OMC

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: 18+, fluff, implied smut, angst, mentions of war, military technicalities

A/N: We are back to Captain Sy and Sgt Liv and they are adorable together. But! It’s not always sunshine and rainbows, right? A big thank you to @thelastsock for being the best beta ever!

<Chapter Five

Title: Captain Six

“We have support from the locals. Not all of them. But plenty.”

Sy nodded in understanding as Liv informed him about their recent advancements with the villagers. She was dressed in her fatigues, her hair neatly tied in a bun and standing with her hands behind her back. She stood confidently beside Sy’s Lieutenant, the soft city girl disappearing under the strong demeanor of a soldier.

“They want to stay hidden for the time being. But they trust us.” Pepps added, his gloved hands holding the straps of his vest.

“It won’t turn out like the teacher from last year?” Sy asked, glancing from Pepps to Olivia. He remembered the horrible incident where the one person who had decided to help them had been charred to death. He had reached the school to witness a wailing woman and spectators watching as the burnt corpse was being taken to shelter by his brother. The deceased’s wife was shouting curses at them which still to this day kept ringing in Sy’s ears.

“Not currently.” The confidence in Liv’s voice had faltered, her tone dropping an octave. She looked at Pepps nervously with pursed lips.

The Captain let out a sigh. He rubbed his beard and brought his arms up to cross them over his chest. Glancing at the soldiers standing in front of him, he leaned back on his chair. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Pepps picked up his gun from the chair and left the office, throwing a nod towards the Captain. Sy watched his Lieutenant walk out the door, leaving only him and Liv in the office. Away from prying eyes, Liv relaxed her shoulders and stood at ease. Bringing her hand to her mouth, she yawned while looking at Sy from the corner of her eyes.

An amused smile crept up on Sy’s bearded face. “Tired?”

Dragging another yawn out of her mouth, Liv smiled lazily at him. “I have been up since…I don’t know… Yesterday? Noon?”

“You had the night shift.” Sy remarked. He had noticed her posted at the barracks with Sloan as he was returning back to his room. She had been animatedly describing something to her comrade, laughing as Sloan had snorted in return.

“I could really take a nice massage.” She rubbed her neck while rolling her shoulders.

Sy smiled at his girl. He was absolutely enamored with the red-haired, gun wielding beauty. A week ago, he had finally kissed her tantalizing lips after agonizing over the thought for so long. He had felt his heart swell, hypothetical butterflies fluttering in his belly. She had tasted sweet; her soft supple lips had glided perfectly against his. The dipping sun had casted a soft glow on her face, making her hair shine like tendrils of lustrous copper.

“Come here.” He commanded with a flick of his hand. Liv raised an eyebrow at him with her hand resting on her neck. Sy tilted his head with a smile as he waited for Liv to move. With a moment of hesitation, she took slow steps towards him. In the week that had followed after their first kiss, they had stolen some more chaste kisses around the camp. Both of them, without voicing their choices, had resorted to keep their budding relationship on the down low. Even if two of their own Sergeants were parading around, openly declaring their love for each other, Sy and Liv could not risk that kind of behavior. They were leaders of their units after all. As much as Sy would love to kiss Liv out in the open, there was a decorum to maintain and Liv agreed.

“Close the door first.” Sy nearly chuckled as Liv’s eyes widened and she hurried towards the worn-out wooden door to his office. Swiftly shutting it close, Liv walked back to him. Sy glanced at her expectant eyes looking down at him. He spread his legs out on the chair and opened his arms, inviting her to sit on his lap.

Liv shook her head at him, rolling her eyes and gracing him with her beautiful smile before climbing on his lap. She straddled him, her hands circling his neck as Sy looked into her golden orbs. He placed a peck on her lips and brought his hands up behind her to work on her tensed shoulders. He pressed down gently on her aching muscles, which elicited a low moan from her. The mellifluous undertone of her voice stirred an arousal in his loins, her thighs rubbing against his crotch not making it any better.

“Now where would you get your massage back home?” He asked, distracting himself with releasing the taut muscles of their tension.

“There’s this place in Tribeca that I frequent when I am on leave.”

Sy felt Liv’s body ease against his as he kneaded his way through her back. He watched as she closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling of relaxation. Her warm breath washed over his face as Liv let out appreciative mewls as he rubbed the aching spot behind her neck. She clutched his t-shirt tightly in her hands as he increased the pressure on the sore spot. Her hips jerked forward, rubbing against his groin making Sy take in a sharp breath.

“Easy there, little birdie.” Sy breathed out. He brought one hand on her cheek, stroking his thumb over her cheekbone and making her open her eyes to look at him. A glint of mischief danced in her whiskey-colored eyes matched by the quirk of her lips. She rocked her hips lightly against his whilst bringing her hand to caress the soft hairs at the nape of his neck.

A shuddering breath escaped Sy’s lips as Liv’s crotch rubbed against his waking arousal. He brought both of his hands down to her hips, grabbing them tightly and stilling her from performing her ministrations on him. Her lips drew out in a pout, her bottom lip sticking out in disapproval.

Sy would have wanted nothing but to take her in his office. Fleeting thoughts about her sensuous, naked body sprawled beneath him had made him jerk off in the privacy of his room. Imaginations had run particularly wild when two nights ago, Sy had pulled Liv into the empty gym hall in the dead of the night. He had pushed her against the wall, his hands on either side of her head, capturing her in place. He was addicted to the feel of her hands on his chest, her lips on his and the breathy moans she elicited. Their chaste kisses had turned to a steamy make-out with tongue rolling against each other, hands grabbing at every inch of their bodies. He had kissed down her neck, pulling her shirt aside to run his warm tongue over her collarbone while Liv had palmed him over his shorts.

Sy knew they would have crossed the line if it wouldn’t have been for the night patrolling unit to come running down the stairs, just outside the gym.

“I think I should retire to my quarters.” Liv commented, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder. “I need a long night’s sleep.” She muttered against his skin, yawning again.

Sy ran his hand soothingly over her back. He held her close to his body, listening to her breathing as she drifted in and out of sleep. He was aware she was overworked. Besides running their main objective of fetching the food truck, she had also immersed herself in the work of the Special Forces. Liv made sure to go out to the village and speak to the inhabitants with Sy’s men, trying to understand their problems and sympathizing with them. To add to her schedule, Sy and Liv woke up early most mornings to catch the sunrise whilst drinking tea. It was like a routine for them and Sy wasn’t complaining. Although everything was sunshine and roses for them at the moment, he also wanted her to open up to him.

Sy had spilled about his entire life in front of her. He did not want to keep secrets from her, and he wanted to know hers. His life was like an open book to her now but all he could do was read the title of hers. Liv was a closed off person, hiding behind snarky comebacks and friendly banter. Sy had tried asking about her life back home, but all he could gather was that she had a younger brother and her parents, all residing in New York.

He listened to her snore lightly as her arms fell down from around his neck. She felt feather light against his body, her lean thighs resting effortlessly over his thick ones. He couldn’t let her fall asleep on his lap for the night, but he decided to let her take a quick nap for a few minutes.

“You are so comfortable.” She mumbled after a few minutes. “Like a life-size teddy bear.”

Sy chuckled softly. Liv turned her face on his shoulder and started peppering kisses along Sy’s neck. He breathed in slowly, goosebumps rising on his arms. His shoulders were circled by Liv’s arms again, her hands resting lightly at the back of his neck. She left a wet trail of kisses from under his earlobe to the crook of his neck. Sy closed his eyes as desire stirred within him. He felt her breasts press against his chest as Liv arched her back while blowing her hot breath on his warm skin.

“Liv,” he drawled her name out. His hands rested on her waist pulling her closer to him.

Sy wanted to give his all to her. He wanted her to be his in ways more than one. But he knew so little about her. He wanted to connect to her, mind and body. Sy understood he was seen as someone who would sleep around, whoring his way around town. He was anything but.

“I don’t know anything about you.” He whispered out loud stilling Olivia in his arms.

She pushed herself away from him to stare at him. “What do you mean?”

Sy took a deep breath. He knew he would sound like an insistent, clingy boyfriend if he barraged her with questions about her life. Maybe it was too soon for them, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to know her.

“I don’t know where you live and I’m not talking about the city.” He adds as her mouth opens to interject. “What about your family? Your friends? Your life outside the army?”

“Where is this coming from?” She tilted her head to the side and rested her hands on his chest.

“I told you about my first time in high school and so many embarrassing childhood memories. Things I haven’t told anyone before. Things people don’t expect me to remember.” He shook his head at himself, overwhelmed by his own vulnerability.

Olivia’s eyes softened as he blabbered about himself. She placed a hand on his cheek, gently rubbing his soft beard. “I feel honored to know such private details about your life. I’m not hiding anything.” He leaned against her hand, nodding in agreement. “Okay, so, I live in Brooklyn, not with my family. I have a whole of two friends outside the army and one distant cousin in Minneapolis. Schmidt is my best friend, as you must have noticed, and I didn’t go to college because I joined the army right after I graduated from high school.”

“You didn’t go to college?”

“Did you?” Her eyes widened at him.

Sy rubbed the back of his neck and adjusted in his seat. “I have a degree in political science.” He watched Liv’s mouth drop open and she blinked several times.

“Wow. You just got a whole lot sexier, Captain Syverson.” She leaned in to plant a kiss on his lips. “Lot more intelligent than silly me.”

Sy laughed at her silliness. He placed both of his hands on her cheeks and gazed at her, his eyes tracing every details of her face. His thumb grazed over her lips. He felt content with the new information about her life, but a particular question kept nagging him. “Were you with anyone before me?”

He watched as she shifted awkwardly on his lap. Her eyes dropped down to focus on his chest, her mouth pressing into a thin line. He looked at her with expectant eyes practically hearing the wheels turning in her mind.

“Everyone has a past.” She said, the mirth in her voice disappearing with her finger twisting in his t-shirt. “Let’s just say, for now, I shouldn’t have messed with someone’s feelings and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

Sy could see she was uncomfortable talking about it. She refused to look him in the eye while she spoke, fixating on tracing circles on his chest instead. He brought his finger under her chin to make her look up. Her eyes held veiled emotions, silently pleading him to not coax her into talking about it any further. He smiled at her softly, nudging her nose with his.

“Okay.” He whispered, pecking her lips reassuringly. “Now you should go to bed. Food truck retrieval tomorrow.”

Sy let Liv climb off his lap, an emptiness filling his being at the loss of warmth from her body. He raked his gaze over the curve of her body as she stretched her arms above her head.

“See you in the morning?” She asked, walking towards the door. Her hand rested on the latch, waiting for his answer.

Sy nodded at her, watching as she opened the door and walked out into the corridor. The bustling sounds of the camp greeted his ears, bringing him back to the present, away from the cocoon he had with Liv.

That was twenty hours ago. The scorching desert heat beat down on him as they hurriedly drove to Camp Warhorse. Sy ached for those hours now. He wanted nothing more than to share more about her life. Engulf himself in her presence again. Comms blaring, commands coming from every direction. The SOS message from Echo team assigned to the food truck still rang in his ears.

"Chopper hit. We're under attack."

Sy’s heart was beating in his chest, thumping against his ribcage. Their engines roared as he pressed down on the accelerator, blowing sand as his tires skidded along the dirt road.

Blood chilled in his veins when the second message came through, clear in the chaos.

"Repeat, under attack. 3 wounded. 1 KIA."

Chapter Seven>

🌟 Series Masterlist 🌟

#Captain syverson #Captain Syverson fanfic #Captain Syverson smut #captain syverson fluff #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #sand and stars series

167 notes · View notes

tossawary · 3 years

Text

Chapter 24: “Seeing is Believing” of “pride is not the word I’m looking for” random favorite lines and commentary. Not a full list or full commentary, but longer commentary than usual to talk about quest construction.

AN: This was... a weird chapter to write. When I started outlining, I had... the conversation with Shen Qingqiu planned... the conversation with Shen Yuan planned... the fact that SQH, SY, LQG, and LFL was the quest party... and the fact that they get the Eye at the end of it. That was everything.

The entire rest of this chapter came together FRIDAY LAST WEEK.

Huan Hua Palace wasn’t going to be there. The Weeper didn’t exist. The Eye or its previous owner wasn’t at all connected to the Garden Master. The Shadow Cave Wolf Spiders didn’t exist. The murder plant didn’t exist. The mysterious monster showing up at the end wasn’t originally planned either.

I mean, I had a lot of pre-existing plot threads to tie in and weave with, but ohhh boy! Picture someone lying facedown on a floor like, “I forgot to plan the contents of the super important quest...”

I was originally going to have the Eye quest a lot simpler, but given the weight “Death of the Author” had when I finally reached this part of the story, that wasn’t really going to do! It had to be bigger than that! It needed oomph! This also felt like a good opportunity to really establish the new SQH-SY dynamic. To explore SY fumbling to find a place in this world without strict character role, especially in relation to settled and well-supported SQH.

“One attempts to remain dignified,” Shen Qingqiu agrees. “As there is little point in kicking and screaming about how such ignobility isn’t fair.”

“Ha! Is there ever?”

“Not in my experience.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely not cute when I do it,” Shang Qinghua jokes.

Shen Qingqiu’s lips actually twitch at that.

Success?!

AN: I wasn’t going into this fic with the intention of writing any Shang Qinghua and Original Shen Qingqiu almost friendship! But it started developing and it seemed a shame not to explore Shang Qinghua developing a real relationship with Shen Qingqiu (though not a particularly close one) when the man is suppose to be the scum villain (and the readers know that the man might get replaced by Shen Yuan).

I can see myself writing more Shang Qinghua and Original Shen Qingqiu content in the future. Someone dropped a particularly nice prompt for them in my inbox that I’m looking forward to exploring at some point.

(I mean, not to say that Shang Qinghua has a type, but Shang Qinghua has a type and it’s handsome, deadly, intimidating, frosty men with a villainous character design and trust/abandonment and communication issues. I could make it work.)

“Ah, well, two ‘ideal’ situations come to mind: severing the personal relationship for good… or, ah, talking about how to do better and trying that. You don’t have to forget or even forgive if you don’t want to! But, ah… there’s got to be a difference between totally swallowing your anger and cutting ties forever, right?” Shang Qinghua says awkwardly. “If there’s… ever going to be anything good afterwards…”

Shen Qingqiu stares at him for a sweat-inducing length of time.

“Ah, fuck,” Shang Qinghua thinks.

“Sorry,” he says. “Ahhh, I’m just… thinking about something someone told me… in… in regards to some of my own problems. Never mind! Never mind!”

AN: Luo Jiahui really is out here making Moshang and Qijiu get their fucking act together just by setting a better example.

“Shizun, my apologies for the interruption, but I came to ask Shizun if he would be willing to join our music lesson today? The disciples have missed his playing and are eager to present their improvements.”

“...Very well, unless anyone here would disagree…?” Shen Qingqiu looks directly at the Qian Cao Peak cultivator, as though daring her to object and die.

“It’s an excellent suggestion!” the Qian Cao Peak cultivator says quickly.

The young woman smiles. “And perhaps Shizun could sit in on the calligraphy lesson afterwards? In order to offer his opinion on my progress as a teacher?”

“Fishing for compliments is unbecoming,” Shen Qingqiu says dryly.

“Wait, what?” Shang Qinghua thinks.

AN: So, this has all been happening in the background, but Shen Qingqiu accepted this House of Rejuvenation woman onto his Peak about... 6-ish years ago now? This is kind of meant to parallel Shang Qinghua’s once-secret relationship with Luo Jiahui.

Shang Qinghua was out here trying to be a better person and Shen Qingqiu noticed; now Shen Qingqiu has his own positive (platonic) relationship with a nameless background character who was meant to die for plot reasons. What a thing, huh? If the story was saved because Shang Qinghua started a domino effect of saving random people who went on to change things?

After all, as Shang Qinghua said to the kid, besides Peerless Cucumber’s apparent talent for cultivation, he knows that his fellow transmigrator has three very important skills that will serve him well on An Ding Peak! 1) An encyclopedia knowledge for even seemingly pointless bullshit (which is kind of flattering, honestly). 2) The willingness to fight total strangers over seemingly pointless bullshit. And 3) a sharp enough tongue to win.

Peerless Cucumber didn’t find these points as funny as Shang Qinghua did.

AN: Shen Yuan was always going to end up on An Ding Peak. I thought about sending him to Qing Jing or Qian Cao or Qiong Ding... or any other Peak... but that would take him too far away from Shang Qinghua to really explore their relationship and to move him around conveniently in the story. And SY sticking to An Ding seemed to best illustrate the fact that SY is lost and doesn’t know what to do except cling to SQH.

“It’s not much, sure, but it’s yours,” Shang Qinghua says finally. “You’ll be joining the talisman classes soon, so don’t try anything from a book and then need to request some home repairs.”

Peerless Cucumber nods and puts his stack of manuals down on the table.

“How’s your tutorial mission going?”

“Fine,” the kid says shortly. “Have you found anything for the other one yet?”

“Ah, not yet.”

AN: “Are you winning, son?” meme energy here.

Ah, now Shang Qinghua recognizes his fellow transmigrator’s expression! That’s the same stunned expression one of his Huan Hua not-disciples, Yu Chaonan, made upon meeting the Bai Zhan Peak War God for the first time. Shang Qinghua assumes that Peerless Cucumber was expecting a man who looked more like a musclebound giant and less like a pop idol (if one with amazingly muscular arms), which is a super common and never-not-funny misconception people have about Liu Qingge.

“Brother of one of the most beautiful women in this world, bro,” Shang Qinghua reminds his fellow transmigrator, amused. Aha! Now Peerless Cucumber’s vehement disinterest in the harem stuff is making even more sense than before!

Shang Qinghua’s assumption gets 100% confirmed when it comes time for Peerless Cucumber to fly with Liu Qingge for the next leg of the journey. The other transmigrator is so embarrassed and awkward about it that Shang Qinghua’s super direct brother-in-law asks if the young man is alright.

AN: This was so fun to write. Shang Qinghua really can use the Liu siblings to gauge people’s sexual/romantic orientation.

The map (or rather, the copy Shang Qinghua made of the delicate original map) takes them to a green and grey landscape of leafy trees crawling over a wide network of tall cliffs and deep gorges. Gurgling rivers cut through twisting rock formations. Shang Qinghua can’t see any of these rivers on the map. Or these deathly drop ravines. From the outside, the whole thing looks like a natural maze (holy shit, there could be so many monsters and death-traps in there!), and Shang Qinghua would know those golden robes flying low over the hanging trees anywhere.

“Huan Hua,” Liu Qingge mutters.

“Do you think they’re looking for what we’re looking for?” Luo Fanli asks.

“That’s usually how it goes,” Peerless Cucumber says, before Shang Qinghua can.

AN: I came up with the skeleton idea first. Then I was like... “I should give it three eyes.” And then I was like... “But who IS this dead author? A god? A spirit? What grander implications am I spinning here?”

And THEN I remembered that I had some ambiguous powerful being force the Garden Master into exile due to a flood. This was because, in the Epic of Gilgamesh, the immortal man Gilgamesh meets in the abyss is the survivor of a great flood. So I was like, “Reduce! Re-use! Recycle! There’s my skeleton!”

So I wanted to relate the skeleton to water because of the flood angle. Water as a symbol of cleansing/reincarnation is a big thing throughout many cultures. I can’t remember exactly how the crying aspect came up, but I knew there was going to be water in the temple now, so at some point my brain like was, “Bro, this skeleton should totally be crying because mythology vibes.”

So I built the surrounding land off the idea that there was water flowing from or around this temple. At this point, I had decided that Huan Hua Palace should also be looking for this artifact, so I had to come up with a way to hide the temple, yet have a way for SQH’s party to track it down.

The damage to the doors is worse: someone once upon a time collapsed a part of the cliff face around the entrance, essentially leaving only the top fourth of the utterly smashed stone doors visible. It’s a wall now and has been for ages. It looks like it would take days to dig through the rubble. Someone has even super helpfully carved, “These doors will never open again,” just above the wreck.

“Guess we’ll have to go in as intruders rather than guests!” Luo Fanli says.

“What would be welcoming us inside a lost temple exactly?” Shang Qinghua asks vaguely, inwardly cursing the fact that explosive mining techniques will definitely attract the Huan Hua Palace Sect cultivators’ attention and also probably collapse the whole cliff on them.

“We only have to clear a passage for us, not the whole door,” Peerless Cucumber says optimistically. “Is there a special technique for this kind of thing?”

“Aha, not really.”

“Oh.”

“Why don’t we just keep following the water?” Luo Fanli says.

“...How so?” Shang Qinghua asks.

“Some of those waterfalls could be passages inside,” Liu Qingge explains, because he and the little sister-in-law apparently share the same brain. He’s already eyeing the waterfall wearing down the giant statue on the left.

AN: Temples in quests need to have traps and obstacles and monsters! Well, not ALL of the did, but this one did. I based the obstacles they faced as much as I could around the whole “Death of the Author” theme, while using this whole quest to explore Shen Yuan, Shen Yuan and Shang Qinghua, Shang Qinghua and Liu Qingge and Luo Fanli, and so on.

The idea here with the door is that the “author” is not going to let them inside the temple to take the interpretation of the narrative (the Eye) for themselves. The story is over (the temple is closed for business)! The author is dead! If they want to get inside, they have to break inside or slip inside as intruders.

This also creates a convenient obstacle to hold up the Huan Hua Palace Sect cultivators so that our party can be nearly caught later! And shows off Shang Qinghua, Liu Qingge, and Luo Fanli’s twisty lines of thinking.

Luo Fanli is holding the light and Shang Qinghua passes the other transmigrator to her, while accepting Liu Qingge’s hand for help getting out of the water.

“Ahhh, that was fun,” Shang Qinghua mutters.

Then he notices that Liu Qingge has the Cheng Luan sword out and ready. Shang Qinghua looks through the surrounding darkness, but all he can see are columns and water. For a moment, he thinks he sees something, a prowling shadow at the other end of the cavernous room, but he wipes the water out of his eyes and it’s gone.

AN: The water in Shang Qinghua’s eyes briefly lets him see a flash of the invisible monsters who show up later! It helps up the tension.

Another low growl rips through the darkness and Peerless Cucumber shuffles a little closer to Shang Qinghua. Because that sounded really fucking close and yet Shang Qinghua still can’t see the thing that’s making that sound.

He doesn’t see Liu Qingge lunge at him either. He only feels his brother-in-law shove him into Peerless Cucumber, knocking them into the water, out of the way of something that howls when Liu Qingge slashes at it with his sword. Shang Qinghua rolls off Peerless Cucumber and looks up just in time to see dark blood splatter across the watery floor. Liu Qingge pursues the attacker with a second slash, but only seems to meet thin air this time.

“It’s invisible!” Luo Fanli cries. “Fuck!”

“Behind you!” Liu Qingge snaps, and spins to slash at the thin air beside him. Dark droplets of blood hit the water again and something hisses at him.

Luo Fanli whirls and slashes, searching for an opponent.

“They’re reflected in the water!” Liu Qingge yells at her, standing guard over Shang Qinghua as he gets to his feet again. “Listen for their footsteps and vocalizations! Feel the demonic energy and air displacement!”

AN: I got this from a list of Dungeons and Dragons puzzles. The idea is that there’s some puzzle that must be solved, but the truth of the room can only be seen in the reflection of the nearby water (or mirror or whatever).

Which felt fitting for a “Death of the Author” quest! Whatever an author’s intentions, the story is what they actually wrote, so the audience interprets a text without the context of the author’s insight. The truth (of the story) is in the reflection (audience interpretation)! It felt like a fun idea.

It also allows Shen Yuan to actually contribute to the quest via monster lore and bring up his impaired vision problem. And to confront Shen Yuan with the reality of this world. And to show off Luo Fanli’s fighting skills. And to show off LIU QINGGE’S legendary fighting skills, instincts as a warrior who fights many dangerous beasts, and the fact that he’s clever and observant!

Liu Qingge is good at what he does! And this is what he does!

Someone has… angrily… or desperately… carved a lopsided message into the wall.

“‘If I go blind, so does the world,’” Peerless Cucumber reads.

“...That’s probably not good,” Shang Qinghua says.

“Nooo…” Fanli agrees.

The messages continue as they climb, carved into the walls, the ceilings, the floors. Most of it is illegible. Some of it is just nonsense. Some of it looks like the same kind of historical records carved into the broken tablets. Some of it looks like someone attacked the walls after reading what was written there. There are deep gouges in the walls and cracked marks that would match a giant’s hands.

“‘The water cleans the lies,’” Peerless Cucumber reads. “‘I am the only one who can see.’ ‘Lies everywhere, lies everywhere, lies everywhere.’ ‘The water cleans the evil.’ ‘I do not have enough tears.’ ‘Everything is nothing now. Everything in vain.’”

“You really don’t need to read them!” Shang Qinghua tells the kid. “It’s fine. It's totally fine.”

AN: This is mostly here to up the tension, but it’s also here to try and give insight into this being and relate them more to the “Death of the Author” and the “Seeing is Believing” themes.

I also saw the phrase “If I go blind, so does the world” while I was browsing a list of riddles for D&D campaigns and I was like, “THAT’S SICK, I’M USING THAT.” Really brings the “an eye for an eye” and vengeance vibes. (The riddle was longer than that one phrase, but the answer was “the sun”.)

The top of the temple reveals one massive room that looks like someone was alternatively scratching their insanity into the walls and tearing chunks out of the interior design with their bare hands. Overtop of the rubble is that eerie overgrowth. There’s a fine layer of water over the floor. At the center of it all is an incredibly enormous desk, cracked in half, with a robed skeleton sitting behind it, slumped over the top. It’s a little too large to be an ordinary human.

Plus, its skull is a little too long, probably to accommodate the third eye socket in the forehead. There’s something gleaming softly yellow in the third eye socket.

“Is… there water dripping from its eyes?” Luo Fanli whispers.

“It looks like it…” Peerless Cucumber whispers back. “Like it's crying…?”

“Still…? Is it dead or not?”

“Holy shit,” Shang Qinghua thinks, slightly nauseated. “System, bro, the worst bro I’ve ever known, tell me that we have not been swimming in a three-eyed skeleton’s magical undead tears or something this whole time.”

The shitty, no-good System stays unsurprisingly silent.

AN: Okay, so the idea here is that this being was someone who recorded history and shared their knowledge freely. This being had the ability to discern the truth of a person - they were extremely perceptive. (The Weeper is either female or doesn’t have a gender, by the way.)

The Weeper met the Garden Master at some point. The Garden Master was an asshole, a liar, arrogant, etc.. The Weeper and the Garden Master clashed badly, until the Weeper sent the cleansing flood that nearly destroyed the sect and the Garden Master essentially had to flee to a personal abyss.

The Garden Master sent the plant as a final “fuck you” to the Weeper. The plant caused the Weeper to slowly go mad. The smashed tablets and destroyed temple are the Weeper’s work. The Weeper (not in a great state of mind) had the temple closed themselves once they realized they and their work had been corrupted. This was a “you destroy my (embellished) reputation, I destroy yours (and your entire life)” plot by the Garden Master.

The idea behind the tears is the whole “water is cleansing” thing. The Weeper tried to clean away the madness using their magical water-related abilities... and it actually worked for a long time. But eventually the madness began to overpower the effects of the magical water. The Weeper’s tears are from frustration and helplessness at losing control.

The water inside the temple combats the plant’s physical effects. Also stabbing the root killed the plant and essentially broke its mental/spiritual powers.

Unfortunately, to get the fuck out of here, they have to go back through the temple. But hey! That’s still a lot better than an extended hike through an underground, haunted desert in darkness! The battle with the now-dead plant caused its growth to writhe around the temple. The vines need to be hacked through sometimes as they travel down through the rooms of broken shelves and shattered tablets.

“So much history lost…” Peerless Cucumber murmurs.

“He still thinks of himself as a reader - an observer, a visitor, separate from the flow of fate.”

AN: This is... absolutely based on the Heart from the Dishonored franchise. But this sort of item didn’t originate with Dishonored and I need it! It’s a surprise/mystery tool that will help us later!

The Eye isn’t exactly a mind-reading object. I mean, it kind of is, but it works in a very specific way that I’m looking forward to getting into.

From there, their path back out of the natural maze is even more careful and stressful than before, now that the Huan Hua Palace Sect cultivators are actively looking for them rather than the temple. It’s slow-going and stressful and silent, except for when the Weeper’s Eye presses too close against his chest.

“He is afraid that if he starts screaming, he will never stop,” it tells him, when he’s looking at a pale-faced Peerless Cucumber, as they fly over a particularly deathly-looking drop.

“Oh, me too, bro!” Shang Qinghua thinks. “Seriously! Tell me something I don’t know!”

AN: Having Shang Qinghua be totally unimpressed by an object like this was very funny to me. He’s the author! He’s a transmigrator! He knows these people well! He already has insight into their situations.

Shang Qinghua groans, but supposes that Peerless Cucumber would have at least been disguising Liu Qingge from the back. “You tell them that you were tracking thieves who stole something from Cang Qiong Mountain Sect,” he says quickly. “Rule of embarrassment! Admitting something that makes us look bad to a rival makes it sound true. Don’t tell them what was stolen and act really offended if they try to poke into Cang Qiong business. I’ll come back as soon as I get these two out!”

Liu Qingge nods and launches forward into the fight.

“We’re just leaving him?” Peerless Cucumber says, as they do exactly that.

“I’ll get changed and come back ‘looking for him for urgent sect business’ as soon as I’ve dropped you two off in the last town,” Shang Qinghua says. “I’m really good at acting stressed and confused, and at desperately needing an unstoppable wandering Liu Qingge back at Cang Qiong Mountain Sect immediately. Now let’s go! Let’s go! Mission isn’t over yet!”

AN: Shang Qinghua is, at heart, a liar. I love him.

#tossawary updates #tossawary svsss #pride is not the word #tossawary commentary

67 notes · View notes

shealynn88 · 4 years

Photo

TWENTY-FOUR CREAM OF THE CROP BDSM FICS!!

There are three main categories:

BDSM Alternate Universe (3): Au trope where everyone is born a dom or a sub.

Safe, Sane and Consensual (10): Mostly AUs where they have some experience in the scene and try to work through things in a healthy way. It’s not, always, because they’re them and messy and human. But these are typically on the more realistic side of things (at least the negotiation/agreement side).

Don’t Try This At Home (11) - dark, a lot of pain and bloodplay, characters handling themselves or each other in ways you probably shouldn’t put into practice..but reading them is HOT (for some of us, anyhow).

BDSM Alternate Universe: everyone is born a Dom or a Sub

all the other things by @reallyelegantsharkfish (Destiel) - Words: 8,439

Castiel is a dom at a service for unattached subs. Dean never knew being a sub didn’t have to hurt.

This is such an incredible story of kindness and healing. I can’t recommend it enough. It’s just gorgeous and sweet.

The Meaning On My Skin by @saltnhalo (Destiel) - Words: 82,787

Castiel despises everything about being a dom. Then he meets Dean, and begins to see there might be another way.

I love the way this weaves in the ‘born a dom’ au, insecure Cas, tattoo artist Dean, a lot of personal growth and some blazing hot, gentle BDSM.

Closer to Bound, Closer to Free by bendingsignpost (Destiel) - Words: 5,867

Sam is going far, and the country needs his leadership. So Dean holds off on what he wants to be sure nothing gets complicated. Even when he meets Cas.

This is an incredible take on the characters - the way Sam serves the greater good, the way Dean serves him. It’s an incredible take on the BDSM AU - the culture of it, the assumptions, the dynamics...it’s an incredible world built in very few words.

Safe, Sane, Consensual: trying to do their best in an imperfect world

riptides by @reallyelegantsharkfish (Destiel) - Words: 138,635

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

This is one of the most gorgeous things I’ve read in my existence. Truly. It is heartfelt, it is sweet, it is filthy, it gets into a vast number of kinks, the ups and downs of BDSM, delves into some dark and difficult character exploration, and ends up...transcendent. Read the tags, but then read the fic. You will not regret it.

Four Letter Word For Intercourse by @bendingsignpost (Destiel) - Words: 194,739

As a grease monkey turned college freshman, Dean's constantly three seconds away from being stressed out of his mind. It hardly helps that he's finally figuring out his sexuality in his thirties.

What might help with that stress is a little phone number (and a big credit card bill). If he can't figure out how to be bisexual in person, he can at least give it a go over the phone, right?

This is another one that is just...incredible. It is sweet, it is heartfelt, it is hot, it is a story of self discovery and mistaken identity and bravery, and it is a really great representation of something healthy growing out of a lot of angst and doubt.

Unsolicited by @dangerousnotbroken - (Destiel) Words: 56,348

Dean get a dick pic from a wrong number...and he cannot believe who it’s from.

Porn star Cas. Mechanic Dean. Hotness, sweetness, and a whole lotta fantastic sexy times ensue. This is just 100% fun and lovely.

Love, light me on fire by ThePornFairy (Destiel) - Words: 3,841

He took a deep breath, wanting nothing more than to turn around and forget this, forget what he was about to do, just go back to never having to deal with it ever again. Instead, he threw the heavy object in his hand on the table before crossing his arms and all but glaring at his husband, whose smile disappeared as his eyes narrowed.

Incredible character exploration and seeing Dean as a masochist with self esteem issues is so true and the way Cas takes care of him is so lovely. It’s hurt/comfort, S/M style.

Kinetics by kittenbot (Destiel) - Words: 106,440

Set in the modern world without the supernatural, Dean is a sculptor and Castiel is a photographer. Castiel is also a Dom and Bakushi—an expert that ties people up in the traditional Japanese way; his specialty is suspension ties. Cas wants to show Dean how wonderful submission can be and he’s absolutely dying to tie Dean up and suspend him. Dean wants to let him.

A long, plotty, character exploration and BDSM scene exploration sort of fic. It will break your heart and heal you. I love this one so much.

Aesthetics in Autoerotica by @relucant (Destiel) - Words: 8,260(+)

Cas is a photography student doing an erotic shoot, Dean is a student who needs money and does some modeling on the side. It ends up being more than either of them expected.

This is incredibly hot and steamy and lovely - it has many of your kinky needs, and the BDSM starts slowly but there are gorgeous rope scenes and soft Dom!Cas is just delicious.

I Wanna Get Outside (Of Me) by emwebb17 (Destiel) - Words: 142,717

Castiel is a diagnosed OCD suffering from PTSD and agoraphobia, mysophobia, and dystychiphobia. The only outlet that’s been helpful is for him to have control over a sub. Dean is the novice submissive who may be his last hope.

This is lovely. It deals with some hard things, so read the tags and be ready for some emotional times, but it is beautifully handled, the character development is fantastic and the hotness is off the scales.

Cloud Nine by Ltleflrt (Destiel) - Words: 2,254

Alpha Cas is a sub, and his Omega is happy to take him apart when he needs it.

Some gorgeous role reversal A/B/O fic.

Send Me Thorns by nhpw (Destiel) - Words: 34,297

Castiel is an experienced masochist submissive whose first meeting with Dean doesn’t go well. But when they end up working together, Cas is forced to consider that there’s more to Dean than he’d realized.

An animal shelter, a masochist, an idiot with a dash of romance and insecurity - this is so lovely in so many ways. It’s sweet and hot and plotty and wonderful.

Russian to the Altar by @malmuses (Destiel) - Words: 144258

It turned out that Castiel was a Russian erotic novelist in need of a ticket to America, and Dean… well, Dean was a last resort.

Picture, if you will, Cas with a Russian accent, Dean baking cooking and cakes, the two of them married and having not a damn clue what to do with each other, except maybe crush from afar. Until they start having a D/s relationships as friends, which of COURSE isn’t how either of them feel. Slow burn, but with lots of sex, funny jokes, hot hot hot D/s scenes, a lot of desire to bash them both over the head, and then an ending that makes it all worth it. So good.

Don’t Try This At Home: it may not be healthy but it’s hot

Countin' One Two Three by Minxchester (ComeAlongPond14) (Dean/Cas/Sam/Gabriel+) - Words: 7,963

AU in which Sam and Dean Winchester are not relatively moral hunters who travel around saving people, but are instead road-tripping, bank-robbing, diner-dining rogues with nothing but their car, a slightly-too-intimate sibling relationship, and a passion for double-teaming cute waiters.

This is basically just a smutfest. If you’re looking for Wincest, it takes a very long time to get there, but it does happen. if you’re looking for WinCasWin, there’s plenty of that to soothe you before you get to any real brotherly sexy times. This is unabashed porn, and it is on FIRE.

Blind Date by @hazeldomain (Wincest) - Words: 1,489

Sam finds out Dean has a kink for anonymous gang bangs, and takes advantage of that to feed a kink of his own...

Some hot wincest pwp. Nothing more to say, it’s just smokin’. Non-con, officially, but ultimately desired.

All Inclusive K!ink by Amazonia_8 (WinCasWin) - Words: 29,552

Castiel has never been in a BDSM relationship, but he’s ready to fully submerge himself in the lifestyle. Dean has been a dom for a long time, but Cas is something entirely new and irresistable.

The second story in this series is my favorite, but this entire thing is just out of control hotness. Sub slave Cas, experienced Doms Dean and Sam. I love this take on the brothers, and on Cas, and the way it shows them working through their insecurities and unwillingness to communicate in order to help them develop a healthier relationship. Sam is brilliant and insightful and dark. Dean is sweet and thoughtful and a well meaning mess. Cas is inexperienced and stubborn, but he knows what he wants. This is definitely a go-to for me!

SextersAnon.com by @unforth (Destiel) - Words: 16,739

SextersAnon.com, is a site that helps like-minded individuals find each other for anonymous sexting. Dean and Cas have no idea what they’re getting themselves into when they match up!

This and it’s sequel Offline are just incredible. It is incredibly emotional and goes into a lot of difficult trauma and backstory. But it is absolutely incredible. Dean is a sadist, Cas is a masochist and they are a PERFECT match...if only they can get through all the baggage, history and fears that keep them apart. Grab a tissue box and have a friend available for comfort, and then go read this fic!!! (Happy ending, just a rough time getting there.)

Dirty Laundry by vipjuly (Destiel) - Words: 28,566

Dr. Castiel Novak is a leading name in the mental health community. When Dean Winchester, self-proclaimed Golden Gardens killer, lies down on his couch for the first time, Castiel feels it. Dean is exactly who he says he is.

Aw, yeah. That’s some quality murder husband fic, right there. This is supremely written dark destiel, and I am HERE FOR IT. The push/pull of it is very Hannibal-esque...it’s just lovely, dark and deep and stunning in the best ways.

Ancient Cultivars by @wingstocarryon (Sastiel) - Words: 7063

Castiel cries for the first time, and Sam doesn’t know what to do. He just does what he can.

This is such a deep and heartbreaking and beautiful exploration of Sam and Cas, on the same and opposite sides of the same trauma. It’s panic attacks and feeling at home and using pain to find a way back...it’s stunning and I can’t say enough about it.

Orpheus by sysrae (Destiel) - Words: 84,007

Dean keeps going back because he thinks he deserves what they give him. But when Castiel picks him up, it’s different. And it’s just the beginning.

Long, plotty, thought provoking AU exploration of Alistair and Dean and the aftermath of that. how Cas comes in not understanding any of it, but treating Dean kindly because that’s the way he is, and it’s hard and also needed so deeply. This is another one that’s just stunning and hard but so worth while.

Willing by @chiisana-sukima (Wincest) - Words: 13,466

After expelling Gadreel, Sam kills himself to close the Gates of Hell. Dean copes poorly alone, and then they cope poorly together.

The atmosphere of this fic is incredible - gritty, noir desaturated feeling to it. It’s subtle and thought provoking and you see Dean serve in a way he really doesn’t in canon, but the growth of it, the way he gets there, is utterly believable and perfect. This is absolutely one of my favorites of all time.

hurt me because you love me by blamethemusk (Sastiel) - Words: 4,374

Sam is a masochist. Castiel is not a sadist, but he can adapt.

Castiel serving the Winchesters in difficult ways is probably one of my favorite things. Here, Castiel gives Sam the pain he needs because no one else can. This is so dark and painful and so full of love. I can’t explain it. If you like some loving S/M, I cannot recommend it highly enough.

Rise Above It by @silver9mm (Destiel, Wincestiel) - Words: 10,692

Cas wants to show Dean that, despite what he did in Hell, he’s not a monster. Dean disagrees.

This is the darkest, hardest fic I’ve ever loved. Definitely heed the tags. BUT, it’s also gorgeous and full of an incredibly selfless love, and it has such strong characterization and exploration of motives and mindsets...truly a masterpiece.

Dollars & Cents by ekbe_vile (Destiel) - Words: 4,602

Dean has a taste for causing pain, and Cas takes it.

Heartbreaking, this one. But again, so much exploration of character in the giving and receiving of pain. There are threads of repentance and horror and challenges of self acceptance. So much packed into so few words.

Been Down So Long by BlindSwandive (Wincest) - Words: 14,404

Sam’s addicted to demon blood and Dean is willing to do absolutely anything to get him over it.

Dark, dark, dark. Non-con all the way. Sam needs demon blood and it’s making Dean crazy. This is so well done - you can see the downward spiral for them both. Sam is an unreliable narrator while experiencing withdrawal; Dean is coming unraveled trying to take care of an unwilling Sam. Chilling but gorgeous. If you like bloodplay/blood-drinking, this is the fic for you.

#shearecsfic

45 notes · View notes

doof-doofblog · 4 years

Text

EastEnders Iconic Episodes:- Sharongate

Tuesday 30th June 2020

Good evening everyone! Sorry for the late post, I haven't found time to write about #Sharongate this week as I've been constantly working! But tonight I've actually managed to sit down and watch the iconic episode! I've been really looking forward to seeing this one, seeing Letitia Dean, Steve McFadden and Ross Kemp all together and looking so young in such an historic EastEnders moment! This is one of those episodes that people still talk about today, how memorable it was, and with good reason! It was the start of the most iconic and memorable relationships in EastEnders history, with Sharon and Phil!

This episode originally aired on 25th October 1994! Oh wow! I had no idea the soap was going to start right at the very beginning where Grant was listening to the cassette tape in his car! It's like right there, straight away!!! Poor Grant in tears listening to his fiance, i'm assuming, listening to her confess to sleeping with his brother, while everyone in the Vic is completely oblivious!

I can't get over how young people look, Carol, Kathy, Pauline, Ricky and Bianca ... everyone! They all look so young! It's terrible to know just what is about to unfold - Grant walking into the Vic and ... YES, playing the cassette tape for everyone to hear! Oooooh did Grant and Sharon ever marry? In the tape there it said "Sleeping with his brother's wife!" I had no clue Sharon and Grant actually married ... so does that mean that Sharon had actually been married to both Mitchell brothers then? I never knew that! It's amazing this is coming to light to me just now! I must've been too young to watch EastEnders when this was going on with it being broadcast in the early 90's, but I am so happy to have seen this properly! It's always been one of the main story-lines I've heard about and yet never got to watch, I'm glad I've been able to view this iconic episode! Oh look how broken Grant looks as he's looking with tears falling down his cheeks, both Sharon and Phil know they've been caught out and nothing can be taken back now! They can't even deny it! Oh gosh, that's right! Phil married Kathy didn't he, makes sense now! I love that slap that Kathy laid on Sharon ... from what I remember, Letitia Dean actually mentioned in the recent documentary, EastEnders: Secrets Of The Square, that that slap was actually real, and you can easily tell if you rewind it and double check, it was a good wallop! I think the way Sharon reacts, it is actually a genuine hiss through the teeth from Letitia, which I think is just brilliant!

I love how everyone is gossiping outside the Vic after hearing the reveal of the big secret, I didn't realise it was actually meant to be Kathy and Phil's engagement party, what a way for a secret to be revealed in such an iconic, typical EastEnders fashion! ! I loved Sharon and Kathy during the discussion, Phil also trying to convince Kathy that nothing had happened. Everyone is in unison saying exactly the same thing, "How could he do that to his brother?" "They're a right pair those two!" .... Actually, I've just noticed something, it's meant to be the night of Phil and Kathy's engagement party right, but where the hell is Ian? I mean it's true both Phil and Ian have never seen eye-to-eye, but you would've thought Ian would be there to congratulate his Mum. Also, I would've loved to have seen Ian's reaction after he learns that Phil cheated on his Mum, I feel like that is possibly another iconic moment, where Phil and Ian are concerned ... it's kinda also a momentous moment in their history also. It is a huge mystery to where Grant has disappeared to, he was there right at the very beginning, then when as soon as it's about to kick off, he walks out and disappears! Phil on his own looking around the Square for him, where the heck could he be? Oooooh gosh, Phil walking around and hearing a massive crash come from somewhere! Is there going to massive fight between Phil and Grant? Is there going to be an epic fist fight between the brothers? Oooooo his car has been smashed in, he makes his way into the Arches and very sharply Grant follows! Needless to say a stunning performance from Ross Kemp, those tears rolling down his cheeks and asking Phil whether Sharon was worth it, I think this is brilliant performance from both Ross and Steve McFadden, I so wished I could've watched this when it first aired along with everyone else!

Oh wow! Even Grant wasn't even prepared to lash out at Phil until he goaded him to, shoving him and forcing him to breaking point. Phil wanted that, he wanted the anger and the fury to come out so they could get it over with. I am impressed as to how Grant was throwing Phil about the Arches, very well done choreography. Although, Nigel has now gone looking for them both, is he going to get caught up in the fight and become the victim of a nasty outcome? Or will he be able to tear the Mitchell brothers apart before one kills the other? Oooooo, I loved that silent ending! Nigel walking in and seeing Grant sat on the floor looking down, only to then see Phil lying bleeding and unconscious. What a cliffhanger that would've been back in the day, I'm guessing everyone had taken a huge gasp and be thinking would Phil be alive or dead?!

I can completely understand why this episode is such an iconic episode and why it goes down in EastEnders history, it's truly one of those ones that keep you on your toes, constantly thinking what's going to happen to Grant? What's going to happen to Phil? What's going to happen to Sharon? Everyone involved in this story-line, it's affected pretty much everyone, which is why it was so big! Even the likes of Michelle were dragged into it. I am so happy I've been able to see this episode from the very beginning, I now understand where the term Sharongate comes from! A fantastic episode!

I believe, the next iconic episode to be shown is the wedding of Syed and Amira, which I am SO excited for. I shipped Chryed for such a long time, and I still do! I pray every day that eventually Christian and Syed will come back together, I'm guessing not now that Masood has left, but I can always live in hope. It's nice that we have Ballum now, but Chryed was the first for me, the first and BEST gay pairing EastEnders have had ... I think it was mainly down to Syed's religion and also the fact he was meant to be getting married to Amira that the storyline went on for so long as I did, but I loved every second of it, even the aftermath of Syed coming out was just brilliant, I feel that episode - along with this wedding episode - was fantastic! Everyone involved put on a phenomenal performance! I can hardly wait to write about one of my favourite EastEnders episodes!

I hope you're all enjoying your fix of EastEnders history! I personally, am loving every second. Its brilliant looking back on such memorable moments from the soap. I'll back very soon following up on the next Iconic Episode. I hope you all enjoy the rest of your evening. Keep safe, keep well! Love you all xXx

#eastenders #sharonwatts #sharonmitchell #grantmitchell #philmitchell #sharongate #kathybeale #michellefowler #iconic #soap #soapfan

6 notes · View notes

lovemesomesurveys · 5 years

Text

1. What type of criminal would you be? “What I need is a good defense, cause I'm feelin' like a criminal. And I need to be redeemed to the one I've sinned against...”

I mean, I wouldn’t be a criminal?

 2. What are you listening to right now? An ASMR video.

 3. If you had to choose a stripper name, what would it be? I’ll do those meme things for this, which I think is the color of your underwear and the last thing you ate: Blue Spaghetti...

 4. If your phone started ringing, who would you hope is calling? I wouldn’t want anyone to be calling.

 5. Do you drink? No. It’s been almost 6 years now since I last had alcohol.

 6. Do you smoke? No.

 7. What is the first thing you notice in someone? I mean, initially it’s their overall appearance and then it’s how they present themselves.

 8. Do you get attached easily? Yes.

 9. Do you like your eye color? I wish I had blue or green eyes.

 10. Have any stupid human tricks? Human tricks?

 11. Humor me. What physical ideal do you imagine in a boyfriend/girlfriend/partner? That matters a lot less to me than personality and who they are as a person, but typically I’m physically attracted to fit guys with short hair, nice eyes, nice smile, and maybe a little scruff.

 12. What type of personality traits do you look for in a boyfriend/girlfriend/partner? Understanding, patience, kindness, trustworthy, loyal, caring, good sense of humor, loves dogs, pretty laid back...

 13. Any other essential quirks/interests/other you look for in a boyfriend/girlfriend/partner? I’d love to have someone who enjoys watching some of the same TV shows and movies together, as well as similar taste in music.

 14. Any romantic gestures you really like? I mean, any would be nice.

 15. Any sexual fantasies? Are you daring enough to share one? I’m a virgin, so I don’t really know what I’d even like.

 16. Have you ever been in love? Yes.

 17. Do you have a crush/romantic interest in anyone? No.

 18. What’s your sexual orientation (if you feel comfortable answering)? Straight.

 19. What’s your favorite color and why? Pastels. They’re just pretty and calming.

 20. What was your most embarrassing moment? My life.

 21. Do you ever wish you were someone else? I just wish I were a better version of myself.

 22. What were you like when you were a kid? Shy and quiet.

 23. What would your dream house be like? Hmm. A house near the beach is big time goals.  24. What last made you laugh? Something on TV.

 25. Do you have a place you like to go to collect your thoughts?  I do that while lying in bed all the time. The beach is really great for that, though. I wish I could go all the time.

26. What is your favorite/least favorite word? I hate the words p**sy and c**t. I literally can’t even spell them out or say them out loud. I’m not sure about favorite word.

27. What turns you on? It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that, but neck kisses and making out did that.

28. What turns you off? Arrogance and cockiness.

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? Nooo.

30. Would you go bungee jumping/sky diving if given the chance? Nooooo. 31. Do you have any siblings? Yes, two brothers.

32. Do you like to dance? I don’t dance apart from head bobbing and maybe some movement of my arms.

33. What is your definition of cheating? For me, it would be anything physical with someone other than me. I also would count emotional cheating.

34. Have you ever stolen anything? When I was a kid I thought the big candy bins at the store were for us to take as we please. Whoops.

35. Do you regret anything? A lot of things.

36. Do you have any phobias? Yes.

37. Ever broken any bones? Yes.

38. Ever come close to death? Yes, twice.

39. What is your religion/spirituality, if any? Christian.

40. Have you ever been to a psychiatrist/therapist? No, but I really need to.

41. Are looks important in a relationship? I can’t say they don’t matter at all, but they’re definitely not the most important thing. Personality means so much more.

42. Are you more like your mom or your dad? I have personality traits of them both.

43. What is your favorite season? Fall and winter.

44. Do you have any tattoos? No.

45. Do you have any piercings? One in each earlobe.

46. How many boyfriends/girlfriends have you had? Just one, technically.

47. Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character? On TV shows/movies, yeah.

48. What is your favorite thing to do? Sleep, drink coffee, Tumblr, surveys, watch YouTube, read, color, watch TV.

49. If you could only visit one place outside of your hometown, where would it be? Hmm. I’d have to really give that some thought.

50. Do you get jealous easily? I haven’t felt jealousy in a long time. I experience envy more often.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

1 note · View note

spreadyourwingsc · 1 year

Text

Sy and Soirse. Chapter 6

Summary: Sy and Soirse figure their way through their relationship, before, during and after Sy is deployed.

TW: This story contains: violence, attempted SA, strong language and mature scenes, please proceed cautiously, you’d been advised. If there’s something I missed, please let me know

AN: I’m open to any suggestion and advices, I don’t know where the story is going yet, but if you want to help me write it, or better it!, please let me know!

Chapter 6

He got to return home for just one night to say goodbye to his family, at least they owed him that. He understood that now he was going to be an army's tool and he would bid by their rules, but he was never the one to follow rules anyways, he was formally discharged at 11pm that night, and was leaving first time at 5am that day.

He climbed her window and knocked, she was fast asleep in her bed, he couldn’t help but to admire her from afar, he should’ve done the right thing and knocked on the door like a normal person would, but he wanted to cherish the moment just the two of them, and he wanted to memorize this same scene over and over again so he will never forgive it

He knocked a few time and when she came to her senses she almost screamed looking at a man outside her window, but after realization hit her, she quickly opened the door and let him in,

“SY omg omg omg”

“Shhh be quiet baby, it's me, it's really me, I love you”

“Sy, how? Whe-? Did you scape?”

“No baby, I really can't tell you much, just, thank your brothers for their help and- and you my baby, gosh, what would I do without you”

“Everything Sy!!!, it was my fault that you got locked in the first place”

“Noo shh, don’t say that, I still wish I'd kill the asshole, I'd endure whatever just to make sure he doesn’t lay a hand on you again my love”.

“Syyy I love you so much” she couldn’t stop saying it and hugging him and kissing him.

She took the initiative and kissed him oh so passionately, she removed his shirt and his pants and kissed him everywhere alongside his chest, his hips, he grew harder and he just savored the feeling on how good she made him feel but he’s got to have her, he pulled her up from her knees and kissed her carried her onto the bed, and opened her legs, she just wore panties and one his shirts to bed so it was easy to remove all her clothing.

He tasted her with soft passing of his tongue on her soft pearl, he relinquished in the feeling, she tasted so good and he just wanted to make this moment last forever, she gasped and moaned his name with every shock of electricity that passed through her, “Sy, sy sy” all over again, he was painfully hard but he didn’t care, he just wanted her to come undone, he wanted her to take her yearning with him whenever he went, finally she came undone in his mouth and he savored all of it until she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Take me Sy” she’d say with big doe eyes, still coming down from that high, and he didn’t hold back, he entered with such delicacy, as if she were to break, but her face told him otherwise, they united eachother in a dance of passion and love, and finally when both of them came undone, they held onto each other until their last second together.

“I’ve got to go now my love but I promise I will come back, ill make an honest woman of you”

“You've already made an honest woman of me Sy, write me, don’t forget me, and I will be here waiting for you, waiting for us, my love”.

“No, dear, you go to college, you make your life, do what makes you happy, and I promise wherever you are whenever you go, I will find you and I will love you all the same”.

He kissed her, and with that he climbed out of her window, and out of her life for what seemed eternity.

Thanks for reading!

#captain syverson

2 notes · View notes

siriusunknowncicerone · 4 years

Text

The Shenadir Legacy - Chapter 1: Ankir and the Lores

As Cicerone dwelled Vytrex in the middle of Sector IMU, a new Personoid has been summoned by Black Alice. In order to achieve its personal immortality, Ankir Despairion will have to kill the Muriox... then, Ankir died and has been influenced by Black Alice's Chaotic Influence.

Ankir: Black Alice has aimed directly to you, Cicerone... killing me is furtile because soon I will be immortal like my brother.

Cicerone: I've defeated Black Alice, you cannot interfere.

Ankir: Marco Aurelio Cicerone, a successor will be claimed if the Goddess of Chaos has been lastly defeated... probably a corrupted Human unlike me, or even a Shenadir related to a Dark Pretty Cure.

Cicerone: Who are the Shenadir?

Ankir: You do not understand on all universe... even your own race. lack of learning is nearly impossible to explain. Every Personoids will recite their "lores", even me as well. The Shenadir are galactic clandestines, they have technology that can easily reincarnate spirits and souls in anything by choice, expect objects and deities. Some Shenadir are related to the Dark Pretty Cure, sometimes the Dark Twintails... besides reincarnation technology, they even restore most damaged Shenadir-kind utilizing Reanimation Tubs, but, in critical conditions, the Shenadir reconstruct the host's body with biomechanical implants, turning the host in Bio-Cyborg... like the 572 Dark Twintail Cyborgs from Sector HTH improved within their biomechanical presence.

Cicerone: Since how when the Shenadir arrived while we are in the middle of outdoors space?

Ankir: Then you will never see them because of Project D's authority; it is forbidden to overquestioning about DIRECTLY Shenadir... they will massacre you before you know it.

Cicerone: (But why?!)

Ankir: ...you cannot grasp the presence of the Shenadir.

Ankir transforms in a massive living anomaly with strange exoskeleton. Its aura is identical to Black Alice's... but it is a very unique aura ever discovered before; as Ankir turns in Subchaos Ankir.

Subchaos Ankir: Even if Black Alice consume me, she doesn't truly dissolved me with Chaos. I will be her successor, that YOU did broke the forbidden rules of the Shenadir...!

Subchaos Ankir copies the same amount of Cicerone's strength and power, and blasts him with Chaos Ragnarok. For miracle, while Legionis reappeared in front of Cicerone for innermost revenge, Ankir has erased by wrongdoing Legionis without he know it.

Legionis: NOT AGAAAAAAAA-!!!

[LEGIONIS HAS BEEN PERMANENTLY ERASED BY [REDACTED]'S "CHAOS RAGNAROK".]

Subchaos Ankir: ...What on freedom is this Pixel in front of you? Nevermind; even an Azathot-Class Pixel cannot surpass my presence. I will tell you a suggestion, the greatest and unstoppable issue of all reality, is YOU, Cicerone!

Subchaos Ankir blasts Cicerone again, with the same Chaos Ragnarok; this time Cicerone counterattacks with a "Gun". For a twist, both the Chaos Ragnarok and the Gun has the perfectly identical artillery.

Subchaos Ankir: ?!? (It can't be...!? I don't understand, Larxia didn't have TWO Chaos Ragnaroks on frontal arms in the first place?) An another Chaos Ragnarok?!

Cicerone: How do you know it?!

Subchaos Ankir: You...! Where did you get this fucking Chaos Ragnarok!?

Cicerone: I was in the middle of the Outer Externet; while I was fighting Nixere, he suddently dropped this unusual weapon without he know it, that's why I called it a "Gun".

Subchaos Ankir: Swear by the most forbidden laws ever! Try again with this Chaos Ragnarok you tolerating bastard, I'm surprised that you were being the most famous outlaws of the CIASI in the multiverse.

Meanwhile, unlike many familiars of the Subpsy Corp, the Legendary Subchrona Sy, known as Dark Tail Titanium of the Dark Twintails, is watching Cicerone and Ankir fight in an intense duel.

Sy: You were lucky, Sirius Unknown Cicerone... until you meet the Shenadir, I will be here, close to you. Skoda Nim'Derz-Hare! (Dark Tail On!)

As Sy spelled an Unknownian phrase, he turns as Dark Tail Titanium.

Dark Tail Titanium: Nai'koshunth lyriel; (May freedom is eternal) Mivyr! I'll download you!

Eventually, Cicerone has almost won the duel...

Genobot Azure(Comm): Cicerone, watch out; It's up to something!

Ankir exposts its core out of its chest, the core beats by rhythm. Cicerone awares that the core itself it's a Core Bomb!

Cicerone: A Core Bomb... It is different to the ones we previously defused in previous missions!

Ziyger: It's a Trigger-Class Core Bomb; it cannot be defused both automatically and manually because it will instantly explodes anything you touch on the external shell. In 1914, during the first days of the Galactic War I, a Fanculist technician discovered a Trigger-Class Core Bomb inside a Valthkien-Taj that is undefusable on any traditional method, and suddently he died within this instant explosion. Then, in 11th September 2001, during the Al Kutla Event, the CIASI Agents discovered the method and defused a Trigger-Class for the first time in Human history. I'll instruct you how to defuse it; to open the external shell, you have to freeze it with Permafrost Emitter. The time the Bomb's "LED" glows Blue, quickly cut the external shell by half... and do NOT cut through the inner shell! After you opened the external shell, synchronize the beat rhythm via Beat Synchronizer; keep synchronize the beat for rhythm at least 30-60 seconds, and quickly flip the switch before the beat stops for 3 seconds. In the end, you reached to the innermost core; cut only red wires and the bomb will finally be defused, and do NOT cut white wires.

Cicerone: Copy that, Ziyger Businessman of the Scruuge.

Cicerone successfully defuses the Trigger-Class Core Bomb.

Dark Tail Titanium: (How did Cicerone managed to defuse the MIN-768T 2020C?!)

Dark Tail Titanium teleports from nowhere.

Genobot Azure: Here we go; get the Bomb, Cicerone, let's download Ankir's data in the Archives later.

Suddently, a Shenadir Holo-Video projects from Ankir's dead eyes.

[VIDEO PLAY]

Dark Cure Blueberry: Human, listen to me; I'm Tiana Shin of the Terran Outsiders, known as Dark Cure Blueberry. I was hired by the Dark Cures because I was fired by my father, no matter how my father betrayed me. I've resurrected Ankir to kill my father like he did to me and my mother... but Ankir has a Chaos Heart that might even kill not only my father, but everyone included me; so I've forcelly killed it for disgrace.

Dark Cure Plum: Blueberry! We have detected a new presence ever seen before!

Dark Cure Blueberry: What? Describe this fucking presence, Plum.

Dark Cure Plum: Let's see... it must be... SARS-Cov 3...? What is this? And how did she get all those monsters?! Are you kidding me?!

Dark Cure Blueberry: Stay calm, they doesn't care on us. Anyway, I hope I remember something at Black Alice, she was parasitified by the Chaos matter. But what happened Ankir? In order to revive him, Black Alice didn't erased Ankir because he has a relationship to Chaos; that's why Ankir has being reincarnated in a Subchaos entity. If you watch this holo-video, you're in absolute danger, Cicerone; finding the Shenadir is impossible because they will do everything to hide their own existence from everyone, in expection to their allies.

PASSWORD; DOTSUKU

[VIDEO OVER]

As the Holo-Video finished, Dark Tail Titanium appear in front of Cicerone.

Dark Tail Titanium: You're even luckier than I expected... rather, you're a chosen one.

Cicerone: What are you talking about, who are you?

Dark Tail Titanium: So then you want to learn everything... didn't you achieve nigh-omniscience? Anyway, I am the Legendary Subchrona "Sy", but as a Dark Twintail, call me Dark Tail Titanium of the Dark Twintails. Unlike the Dark Cures which is used for girls only, both girls and boys can transform in Dark Twintails. In 18th August 2012, the Shenadir linked the dimensions of both the Precure-Verse and the Twintail-Verse during their own event. This event begun at 15th August 2012 and expired at 22nd August due their scientific discovery that cloak physically their existence from opponents. After eight years, the Shenadir are now developing anti-immunitary tactics and existence cloaking technology. That's why Darkuswell can't see their presence as he consider them an anomalous race.

Cicerone: Since how Shenadir ships are developed?

Dark Tail Titanium: ...I cannot tell you. If the Shenadir know that you're finding for them, they will permanently inhibit you from finding them.

Cicerone: (Why?!) So besides the Shenadir developed their cloakers, they developed even hypersonic audiopathy technology?

Dark Tail Titanium: You don't know the Shenadir even if you try to guess their technologies. If you meet the Shenadir, I'll be here, close to you. また会うまで、チチェローネ。 (Till we meet again, Cicerone.)

Dark Tail Titanium teleports from nowhere once again.

Cicerone: (The Shenadir... how should I do if they inhibited me? No, this time I don't want to make myself suffer for misery to the Shenadir's most unknown presence of all galaxy.)

Cicerone scans all the galaxy's area for Shenadir... but they were undetectable on scanners. 40 minutes has past, and the Shenadir laughed together for his foolishness, and then, Cicerone is so hopeless, under influence of despair. Then, someone appear from behind of Cicerone.

???: The Shenadir are too rare for this universe to survive. 50 years ago, many Shenadir were brutally killed alive for extreme by the Reiji, then the Cenozi, and then the Omochai.

Cicerone: Omochai...? (Who is this guy?)

???: Omochaitophir of the Sare X5070 to be precise; they are a peaceful race with their so-known science attuned technology; They were... disgustingly cute androids. Anyway, the Shenadir has decided to never be existed from their opponents in this universe according their psychology. As I said, the Shenadir are afraid of everyone else, with the exception on their own race, the Dark Cures and the Dark Twintails.

Cicerone: Since how when the Omochai attacked the Shenadir, and why?

Ryak-Ru: The Omochai has a dark secret about their origins... they're all Dead Pixels full of hatred and sorrow, they have no friends nor family either, so they decided to remain in their homeworld Sare X5070 forever until someone arrived their homeworld. And that's why some Omochai are related to the Shadow of Corruption! I forgot to tell you... I'm Ryak-Ru of the Anti-Sagaverse, nothing is easy to learn for you; the Shenadir ARE legends.

Ryak-Ru consumes Cicerone's identity via touch.

Cicerone: (I can't move...!! I can't even speak neither, how should I do now?!)

Ryak-Ru: Hehe, how doubtful and confused you are... you're not no one, however, you've failed to encounter the Shenadir; Rather, you have been encountered a wrong person.

Suddently an unknown energy fully restores Cicerone's identity, and easily defeat him with a single beam from this energy.

Ryak-Ru: Guh...! Damn you, Sagaverse!! Cicerone, how do you fulfiil the belief on the Sagaverse?!

Cicerone: I don't know... is the Sagaverse choose me?

Ryak-Ru: Even if you believe the Sagaverse, what are all this energy-

Ryak-Ru shatters in pieces by the Sagaverse's Energy. Then, the new four Subchronas appear in front of him.

Regel: We are the ultimate version of the Subchronas, the "Special Subchronas". I am Regel the Reincarnator, I was reincarnated 20 times in 400 years before the King of Pestilence Era; 1, Tse Yotsugo of the Strazi, agent of Cancer and adversary of Darkuswell. 2, Tanzani Karabass of the Lutuma, special researcher and rival of the Pretty Cures. 3, James Qwerty of the Muirittetan Human, billionaire. 4, Guron Ryth of the Taltherian, urbanist and divorced by a Taltherian female. 5, JX-7 Dot of the Vygoid, master hacker and ascended malevolent A.I. 6, Fyri Ifit of the Voliir, joined member of the Al Kutla and black hearted slavist of all Ancervinnan. 7, Zronokylo of the Assault Challengers, successor of Zronodoklin and rebeled because of the legendary Unknownian Heroine's "beautiful presence". 8, Myrayn Whitesky of the Konqul, chief of the White Tail, member of the Blue Scale and trainee of the Black Wing. 9, Stralax of the Sector XJ9, white dwarf. 10, Alphydo of the Velifetan Wolf-Fox, adopted by Caroline Xisboy; massacrated and injected for death by Necrosia 13. 11, Garenthos II of the Muirittetan-Spanish Human, first deposition Fanculist soldier. 12, 13 and 14, Jostic of the KOS-0, masterized with Reincarnation arsenal and guardian of the Kosmoptosis Fathership. Died thrice in the same fathership in all three forms each! 15, 16, 17, 18, 19 and 20, Sol Hyperion of the Subchrona, known as the "Son of the Stars". I prefered to be as Sol Hyperion because i love Phoenixes.

Rosaria: You must be... no, it can't be, since how when you become a chosen one?

Lune: My sister, it's Cicerone, the one who defeated us. You must be Marco Aurelio Cicerone; or rather, "Cringe Boy". Do you remember us 2 years ago, since we are Dark Rose and Dark Moon? Now our faction has been created before the Covid; we just noticed a bunch of "Non-Know-Who" cops that are terribly injured by the Doppelgänger-like "Entities" shapeshifted as the Seven Archangels and even the "Angel Goddess Ilias", so we decided to create our HQ underground as a secret base (Y'never know). After the Post-Covid arrived, I heard the news that Legionis has killed the foundator of the Crown Corp and he reclaimed itself as a new foundator of a new group: the Vittoria Corp.

Cicerone: (That foundator must be SL-9, Xavierous Boomerich!)

Rosaria: Now we remember our past back, and we decide to reveal our real names; right, Lulu?

Lune: Seriously, don't call me Lulu, you little tanned.

Rosaria: What did you say?! 💢

Kaminokouji: Rosaria, Lune, stop fighting. Cicerone, you must be the one who learned the laws of the video games; I am Seiro Kaminokouji of the Mivyr Hybrid. In 2010s, I constructed my first invention, the "B.O.S.S."; there are four types: Regular-Type, Mini-Type Super-Type and Final-Type. We heard that the Shenadir are arrived in this galaxy, not only the Subpsy Corp...

Regel: Even the Inergon, the Xecti, XJ-69 Organization, Post-Covid Syndrome, everyone knows the Shenadir; It's like they're the most legendary races of all multiverse, even God himself is the least legendary than ever!

Rosaria&Lune: Then why does the Shenadir has changed everything now?

Regel: I ever been reincarnated as a Shenadir before, i completely forgot.

Cicerone: (Things happen, Regel.)

Kaminokouji: Now the issue is whenever we use offensive actions on the Shenadir, they will attack us as well. I was surprised that these Bird Ships has tentacles inside their beak; it's particullarly disturbing.

Cicerone: By the way, Bird Ships, what do you want?

Rosaria&Lune: We are here because of the Shenadir!

Lune: The legend of the Shenadir Legacy said that whoever gained immortality by a Shenadir's engineered blood, gets lucky.

Rosaria: In altered cases, trading a Shenadir Pact with Galaxy Points was the same.

Regel: It would be a great idea... anyway, that Dark Twintail you've encountered is Sy, the first legendary Subchrona of all Subpsy Corp. We talked to him, and its Tailgear Replica is surprisingly amazing.

While the four Subchronas' Codec rings and opens the comm, Cicerone telepathically listen them and their Codec.

Sy (Codec): What are you waiting for, you idiots?! We're wasting our time; Our role is to gain the Shenadir DNA in order to create a new life-form, if the Shenadir disappear until September, we no longer find them again forever until the next 8 years!

Regel: Copy that. Cicerone, what are you doing with our private moment?

Cicerone: Nothing, just preparing the battle.

Kaminokouji: You're lying, Sirius; I'm sure you've learned the Telepathy by the Genetarr... (whispering) Sy-Sama, after we return to the HQ back, install our Neuro-Aura Armors; Cicerone has learned Telepathy by the Genetarr females.

Cicerone: (Fuck... now the Special Subchronas are aware of my Telepathy; if they come back again after Sy, I won't be able to use any psychic power until the end of the mission!)

Kaminokouji: Regel.

Regel summons three Salamanders and a Phoenix Girl; Regel, reincarnated as Sol Hyperion, strengthen its Solar Pulsers and Emitters, surrounding solar blazes on it. Then, seals a Phoenix Girl inside his core, gaining its self-resurrection skill. Besides, its aura soften Cicerone for comforting warmth due the same strange aura of the Cosmiren despite the sealed Phoenix Girl.

Sol Hyperion: You know what Phoenix Girls can mass-reproduce via sex towards a Human male? Anyway, I just found one with its Pod landed a star when I was upgrading an isolated Heliacal Plant. Besides, I found not only three, but DECINES of Salamanders at Daharkilia. I've trained all of them, at first to last VR Monster Girl i've recruited in my equipment.

The Special Subchronas teleports away expect Sol Hyperion. Cicerone gets more weaker the more he feel comfiness of the Cosmiren aura overtime; he must hurry.

Cicerone: (It's much comfier than the Cosmiren's... I feel pleasure runs through my veins...!)

Sol Hyperion: Hmhmhmhm, with this special technique, it is much comfier than Cosmiren's aura. Rather, it makes you excited!

To be continued...

Story by Sirius Unknown Cicerone

0 notes

s-he-blog · 5 years

Text

Day 1 - 11 April 2019

Finally started on Option B. I made it past the first Chapter easily but I hope to improve this stamina for Non-fiction. A few good take aways and i want to note it down so that i can remember. So let me try..

3 Ps that will stunt recovery

1. Personalization

2. Pervasiveness

3. Permanence

They are basically “It is my fault this is awful. My whole life is awful. And it is always going to be awful.”

Personalization.

I need to stop being apologetic about what i have done. Yes, i have cheated on my partner, i lied, i was dishonest. But our relationship failed not just because of that. It always take 2 hands to clap. Yes, i could have handled things in a much better way and I am sorry for all the hurt and anguish. But i need to accept that we fell apart because we grew apart.

I need to stop thinking that is because of me that I have put everyone in such anguish. It was not me but knocked on others door. She came and knocked on mine. We both entered into this fully aware of how difficult it will be. My heart aches and my brain screams indignant when I see sw in a certain degree of pain and even regret. I admit. I feel like saying, you know what, let’s just not do this. But that is me taking flight, me letting my ego speak. Thats me allowing myself to feel hurt and forget that we both wanted this so badly. Since we are both in this now, we recognized the difficulties in our path ahead and We Fight. We fight till we can’t anymore.

Pervasiveness - the belief that an event will affect the rest of our lives

Well. This is the first time I am really on my own. Especially in my daily life and work. I need to remember the other good in my life and this current down time will feel less acute with time. So what is good in my life? My family. I finally came out to my brother and sister (soon) and they have a silent rock throughout this time. They don’t impose, have been sensitive and gave me the space i need. I know they are Here for me. My parents, i know my Mum misses sy but likewise, she doesn’t impose. She has been patiently giving me the time and space i need. I hope one day i can tell her everything. My niece. She is one that is able to make me forget and makes me smile. I hope my future partner will love her as much as i do.

My colleagues. Matt, Tim, Leon, Zoe. Though colleagues, they care and they want the best for me. Having people outside my usual circle have been giving me mature perspectives that I have never heard of. I want to build a even more meaningful friendship with these people.

My work/financial freedom. Who can go without working for 4 months and still surviving? Haha. I want to remind myself i am in this trade because of the flexible time and utmost potential in earnings. Yes Q1 is down, but i should not be afraid and charge on. So long i don’t give up and keep charging. $200-300k is very much possible.

My friends. Estee, Yb, Manda, Tin, Chari. I think i gotten the best of what i deserved because i never was a good friend from the start. But yet they showed me the love and support just that way i need it. Again, all are not lost. I can still create meaningful friendships from now on.

Permanence - Try eliminating ‘Never”, “Always”. Replace with “Sometimes” and “Lately”

The fear of not being able to produce at work currently feels the most permanent. On the contrary. Sometimes i feel weak. Lately i feel useless. But i need to remember that I was a producer, on my own even. I was the bacon bringer. I need to rebuild this confidence. Do i feel scared that this break up will affect me forever? At this point i do not think so. Life goes on. People come and go. Partners part and reunite. Who knows? Or i may just really get a tattoo with sw and get married. Who knows?

I know i am not a pessimistic person. I am not a dark cloud. I count my blessings and I can be happy. I just need to wash away all these negative energy and charge on. Time to bring back my confidence.

0 notes

honestsycrets · 4 years

Text

Little Crow [ Ivar x Niece!OC (Platonic), Ivar x POC!Reader ]

❛ pairing | ivar & sigurd’sdaughter!niece (father figure relationship), implied!ivar x POC!reader, thora x hvitserk x amma

❛ type | platonic, family oriented oneshot

❛ summary | after ivar murders sigurd, his guilt keeps him from keeping his niece. but-- he can’t help himself from trying to crawl back into her life.

❛ tags | verbal arguments, osteogenesis imperfecta issues, fighting, referenced death, referenced murder, orphan child, adoptive mother, adoptive relationships, family dynamics, mention of polygyny.

❛ sy’s notes | this fic implies Bjorn sailed away to Sweden after avenging Ragnar, Aslaug does not die.

In everything, anger is a release of tension. That is as true for cooking instruments as life. Water boils with the anger of a flame and chucks its lid off to release itself all over the kettle or pot. Likewise, the moment the axe left his hand, Ivar felt the rush and the release of tension. It was gratifying. It was what he wanted. For it all to stop.

“Are you sure?”

He looks back, once, past the flickering flame to the little hands pushing and prodding her pale skin. She looks happy here, free of the realization of a few months ago, before the sail back to Kattegat, before Bjorn sailed away to Sweden, before the accident. There is security in a warm longhouse with nothing but beautiful, strong women. Here she could learn.

Ivar kisses her palm and doesn’t look back.

For her coming of age, he sends her a gift. It’s quiet. Until it isn’t.

“She’s renamed her Aslaug,” his mother came into the throne room one day, standing before him with soft eyes as he sat in his mother’s chair. Ivar bounced clicked his fingers along the arm of the chair.

“Ironic,” he noted, and his hand dropped from his lip. “She has your old name.”

“The crows come to see her.”

Odin is taking care of her. Ivar hmphs, a small noise, almost unmoved until his mother steps up to set her hand on his shoulder. It stings different. “Why don’t you go see her? She is very beautiful.”

He’s not sure if it’s his niece she’s talking about-- or the carer out in the fields. It’s better this way. Less of a risk for her to be involved with such a family. Ivar stares, plain and long, trying to isolate why his mother was speaking like this.

“Why are you pushing me?”

Her lips curl into a knowing smile. She heads down from the throne to the backrooms.“I’ve invited them to eat dinner.”

Fantastic.

Mother was right. She is beautiful. he can’t tell which of the women he’s speaking about.

The young girl, who is no more than twelve, with cool blue eyes plagued with the spiral of jörmungandr, or her mother who isn’t really her mother. Not in the flesh, anyway. Her skin is far too pigmented, her eyes too deep to belong to the sea serpent, but maybe the deepness and depth of the soil that nurtured the chunk of a pig on his plate.

“--I came after Ragnar’s victory in Paris,” he catches the tail end of the statement. His father’s name is old but familiar. He hasn’t been back from Europe so long.

“That was not so long ago.”

“It’s long if you’re a slave.” There was nothing he could say to that. “Thank you for that Ivar.”

What you mean to say, is for the coin that set you free, from Ivar’s pocket. He took a little more than he should have after his father came back. Perhaps it wasn’t with just this in mind-- but who knew when a young boy like him would come upon such money again? At the very least, he put it to good work.

“I can’t stand to see beautiful women as slaves.” He gestures, and you tease him further, that if you were ugly he would not?

No, he reminds you, women are his soft spot. He’s kissed more than one woman’s hand-- and they weren’t all young. “He’s a woman’s man,” Aslaug brought her knuckle to his high cheekbones. Little Aslaug stares off in annoyance between the bantering, complaints of how he had no wife-- and maybe, a tease at the prospect in the future.

“In its time,” he remarks to the two of you. Ivar sat idly chewing on it when his eyes caught with little Aslaug’s across the table. Her eyes flicked down, to his plate, then up again. “Still hungry?” he asks lowly, a soft draw with gentle eyes.

She reaches for it. It being his plate and drags it over to sit in front of her. Your idle chatter with Queen Aslaug is cut off by the abruptness of the motion when you set your eyes on Ivar’s. “Aslaug.”

“No, no.” Ivar waves, reaching for a chunk of fruit. “I am not so hungry today.”

“You know better than that.”

“And why?” Aslaug pulls a strip of meat off the meat. She looks at him past the wave of her long brown hair tumbling to her flat chest. “He sent me away. He should be so lucky to have me here with him.”

Aslaug leans over. Ivar-- if he could have given her a look sooner-- might have stopped what was about to come from his mouth. “He sent you away to save you. Mismanaged girls don’t often grow into women.”

“If you’re their mother, they don’t. I grew up just fine on my mother’s farm. No drownings, or almost drownings, or visions of hurricanes. No cursed mothers of the water.” Little Aslaug flicks her bone onto the plate, bobbing her head in a way that seems to be just like looking in the reflection of a golden plate, right back at him.

Aslaug reclines back in her chair.

There’s nothing you can say. In the absence of words, you lean over and press a kiss to her soft hair. Little Aslaug turns to your long braids, pushing the wooden beads away from her, because there’s something she wants to say-- and she’d say it. She was like her father, like her uncle. It’s something that he quickly realizes when she mutters something he can’t understand and leans over that long table, her crutch under her arm.

“I needed you and-- you sent me away. Like shit under your mangled legs.” When she hobbles out, leaning into her metal crutch, Ivar is left with a closed fist and a dozen questions. You spare him a look of pity on your way after her.

“I need help.”

Sigurd never needed help. Not from him. Not from really, anyone. It happened long ago that he stopped asking for help. So when the news came, he wasn’t altogether sure what he was hearing from his brother. Only that he knew what it was about.

When he set his little niece down, Ivar knew. She couldn’t even move.

“Set her down,” Ivar gestured toward the ground. Dusty, but clean for him to crawl upon. She’d broken her legs not once, or twice, but thrice. Once on the ground, he knew that the little girl was scared to move. So he showed her how, limp legged and tense armed, he dragged himself a hundred times around her.

And she giggled. And for the first time in a long time, Ivar and Sigurd laughed together.

He could have walked away. Theoretically, of course. Pretend he doesn’t have a niece. Or anyone. But he finds himself plagued with the knowledge of abandonment and reflecting on his own abandonment. And that’s how he ends up in the merchant’s square, looking for the particular women.

Ones that brought up other women’s children with long draping skirts, braids woven tighter than the fates written by the Norns, and baskets carrying goods upon their heads. Moorish, beautiful women.

“Sorry,” his brother Hvitserk slides by, jumping jovially beside him. The many different groups of Kattegat all traded in harmony. The ones of the east with the ones of the south, the ones native to home. Hvitserk bounces while walking backward. “Brother! Amma and Thora say they trade beads at the edge of the marketplace.”

“Why do you even have two wives,” Ivar grumbles, jutting his crutch into the soft ground, holding his hand over his muscular leg for balance. “Is one not tiring enough?”

“I have love to give.” Hvitserk rattles his laughter. “Why should I close myself off to another?”

“And one can’t be deserving enough?” If it were him-- he’d surely love one, and only one, because that was the sort of man he was. He doesn’t need more. He would have all that he needed and that would be enough.

“Your trouble is that you haven’t fucked enough,” Hvitserk says pointedly. “If you fucked that woman from the other day--”

“This isn’t about her.”

“You wouldn’t be so wound up all the time. Here you are attacking me, for instance.”

Ivar doesn’t respond. At one time, maybe, he thought that he could have it all and more. He could be happy with a wife with fifty children and that would be good for him. Now that it wasn’t… feasible, he supplies in his mind, this should be enough for him.

They kick up dirt as they arrive into the hearth of the marketplace. Honey, furs, slaves. Those were the good things there. His interest was less so in the simple things and more with the luxurious items at the very edge of the trade center. Expensive things like beads, jewelry, clothes. Things you traded on your rich red throw on the ground.

“Two Ragnarssons this time, I must have the blessing of Frigg this cycle.” You sat among young children, retelling a story he’s cut in on while weaving beads into a blonde-haired woman’s hair. “Something tells me you aren’t here for me.”

“You might be correct.” Ivar looks among the heads of young girls. Light-skinned, dark-skinned. Blonde hair, orange hair, black hair. None look like his little niece. “Where is Aslaug?”

“Searching a new name.”

“Alone?” he demands.

You pull a loose golden strand through your fingers. Then, looking up, you laugh at him. “You make for an overbearing father.”

Warmth floods into his cheeks. You whisper something into the ear of your daughter selling beads, and she drags them off to the side. With a pat of the blanket, Ivar slides beside you. “I’ll let you know something, Ivar, for when you have a child of your own. There are some times you press them…”

“Or dress them up,” your customer looks over. The orange beading seems to pronounce her slight freckles dotting over her cheeks and around her eyes, sunspots that indicated she worked outside the home on occasion.

“Or know when to leave them alone.”

Hvitserk shifts his weight onto one leg and shrugs. “Women are complicated,” he gestures. “Girls too.”

“You aren’t someone she wants to see.”

“I’ve gathered,” Ivar says, bringing his hand to his temple, rubbing the stress free. “I should never have sent her away.”

“You shouldn’t have.” He bows his head and looks over the soft beads. He finds himself comparing which would look the best, and you seem to know, running your fingers over the rich green that reflects like bits of grass. “But you can make it right. I would take… six of these. Fashion her a necklace. Go see her in the valley where the crows gather.”

“I don’t take it you’re giving them to me?”

“Not men,” you quip playfully, patting him square in the middle of his chest.

“No deals for men!” the young girls tease all around. He supposes, in a place made up of beautiful women, that he has no choice but to be cheated out of his coin. Hvitserk crouches at eye level, picking out two for his wives. “I’ll cash in that favour now.”

Make that eight.

What you failed to tell him was just how far this so-called valley was. His legs began to ache sorely with the calibers weighing down every step. His legs hurt, his hand hurts from supporting his wealth of muscle, and so does his head with the memory of what little Aslaug had said. In the dusty grey sky, crows fluttered overhead. Their black bodies obscure what little light peers through fat bulging clouds.

It was a day like this, not too long ago -- at least in his memory, that the accident happened. Not his loss of control or the flare-up of anger that transferred from father to uncle, to niece. But a grey day of crawling through the valley with legs that did not work and a storm that was too sudden. The sodden ground led to a sick two-year-old-- and a sicker, plump wife. Not his wife, that was.

“If you can’t keep her safe, don’t keep her at all.” It was those words, mixed among a heated exchange, that stuck with him. He sat dripping water on the new planks of Sigurd’s bedroom-- looking toward where Sigurd disappeared with his giggling girl. Sigurd meant that.

“You’re thinking too much.” Hvitserk is kind of like a bird. The kind of bird that you want to knock out of a tree when he’s following you, chirping obvious things, even when he wasn’t asked. Not that my opinion matters but… Or I think you’re an idiot… the usual.

“Shut up, Hvitserk.”

They find her in a clear valley where the bones and the spears of decades past are still lodged into Midgard. Hvitserk glances between the remnants of a long old battle, scavenger hunting for goodies, while Ivar ascends the hill. She’s more your daughter than his, Hvitserk says, because he’s so much help.

There she was at the top of the hill. Her arms were folded, a scowl slapped across her face, deepening with his every drag to an eventual stop beside her. He collapses at last beside her and sets his crutch across his tired legs.

“Mother sent you to find me.” She states. There’s a crow between her thin legs. That makes sense. She pets its head.

“Hm?” Ivar reclines back on his forearms. “Not this time. Something about space.”

“Like I said. Mother sent you to find me.”

So maybe you did. Ivar came to that helpful realization with a necklace wrapped around his wrist and a much lighter pocket. You’re no con woman, but you aren’t a stupid woman either. He reminds himself that a woman-- a once was slave -- was a crafty woman when looks alone just wouldn’t roll the stone.

“Do you hate it?”

“Maybe.” She answers quickly. “I don’t know why she wants me to see you. You--”

“--sent you away. I know. I thought I did it for you. Maybe I--” he pauses then, searching, thinking. “Did it for me.”

“I never would have guessed.”

Ivar unwinds the necklace from his wrist, staring at the beads as if they were bones he could shake-up for the right answer, like a seer. Instead, he finds himself asking why when she interrupts. “It’s one thing to kill my father.”

He glances up.

“I think… all of Kattegat knew one of you would kill another. So I hear from my mother. Baby, and all.” She says pointing to all of herself. “It’s one thing to do that. Another thing to abandon me.”

“Would you have preferred to have no mother?”

“No,” she clicks her tongue, turning her head away. “I love my mother. All of us do. She is much better than my grandmother. But you left.”

It’s a statement he doesn’t imagine he’ll stop hearing soon. Ivar rubs his temples and turns on his side just as she tugs her legs around, heavy in the calibers he had sent her for her coming of age, the thing that incited everything. He leans over, fisting the necklace, and sets it in her hands.

“Forgive me then, Aslaug.”

“Kraka.” She takes the necklace, fitting it around the crow’s head, who strangely doesn’t move. He must be seeing things now because she fits it under her arm like a ball and stands to her feet. “I want to be called Kraka. Now hurry up. With your legs, we won’t be home before the rain falls.”

Its a different name, one that she’ll probably change again and again. Or maybe none at all. Maybe, he thinks, this is what being a parent to a young girl is. Finding himself in the same way she found herself. He doesn’t feel so angry now.

“I hate to remind you, but yours are no different, Kraka.”

And somewhere, in the field, Hvitserk chirps-- I found a coin!

@tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer @medievalfangirl @sallydelys @bluearchersstuff @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever

#Ivar x Reader #Ivar/Reader #Ivar x OC #Ivar/OC #ivar the boneless x OC #ivar the boneless/oc #vikings imagines #vikings imagine #vikings/reader #vikings x reader #honestsycrets fics

120 notes · View notes